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DALE  AND  FRASER,  SHEEPMEN 


'JAMIE,  WHAT  DO  YOU  THINK  YOUR   FATHER  TOLD   ME  THIS   MORNING?' 


Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 


A  STORY  OF  COLORADO  SHEEP  RAISING 


BY 
SIDFORD  F.  HAMP 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
CHASE  EMERSON 


W.  A.  WILDE  COMPANY 
BOSTON  CHICAGO 


CONTENTS 


I. 

The  Spring  Creek  Ranch 

II 

II. 

The  Wolf-Hunt  . 

25 

III. 

The  Boy  from  Obispo  . 

40 

IV. 

The  Drive    . 

55 

V. 

A  Lion  in  the  Path 

71 

VI. 

A  Trip  to  the  Foothills 

go 

VII. 

A  Range-Fire 

109 

VIII. 

The  Copper  Pot  . 

126 

IX. 

The  Great  November  Storm 

143 

X. 

Hidalgo  Saves  the  Wether  Flock 

162 

XL 

Gathering  the  Wreckage    . 

175 

XII. 

The  Face  in  the  Window    . 

190 

XIII. 

The  Good  Padre 

207 

XIV. 

Into  the  Giant's  Castle 

224 

XV. 

The  Harpstrings 

238 

XVI. 

A  Pistol  Shot      .... 

256 

XVII. 

What  Hidalgo  Thought  in  His  Head 

272 

^VIII. 

In  Prison  and  Out 

284 

XIX. 

The  Padre's  Little  Trap 

298 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"Jamie,  what  do  you  think  your  father  told  me 

THIS  MORNING  ? "  .         .         .         Frontispiece       21 

"The  little   Mexican   waving  above  his   head  a 

flaming  stick " 73 

"  Hallo,  Stock  !     Are  you  there  ?  "         .         .         .     154 

"Alighting  from  our  horses,  we  advanced  to  meet 

them" 214 

"  We  saw,  far  behind  us,  like  pin-holes — two  twink- 
ling points  of  fire  "  287 


Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 


CHAPTER  I 
The  Spring  Creek  Ranch 

A  WOLF-HUNT?  Yes,  the  boys  will  be 
glad  to  go,  I've  no  doubt.  I  can't  my- 
self: I  have  to  drive  to  town  on  Wednesday; 
but  the  boys  will  be  delighted  to  join  you,  I'm 
sure." 

It  was  my  father,  Robert  Fraser,  sheepman, 
who  made  this  remark,  as  he  flung  open  the 
gate  of  the  horse-corral  to  admit  his  visitor, 
a  brisk,  dapper  little  man,  by  name  John 
Meadows,  also  a  sheepman  and  our  nearest 
neighbor  on  the  south. 

"  *  Boys  '  ?  "   exclaimed   the    latter   in   an  in- 
quiring tone,  as  he  slid  down  from  his  horse. 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  *  boys  '  ?     Is  there  any 
one  here  besides  Jamie?  " 
11 


12  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"Oh,  I  forgot.  You  haven't  met  him  yet, 
have  you?  Yes,  we  have  another  boy  here 
now ;  a  young  fellow  named  Stockton  Dale. 
He  comes  from  Boston." 

''  From  Boston,  eh  ?  How  does  that  happen  ? 
One  doesn't,  as  a  rule,  care  to  have  a  city  boy 
hanging  around  a  sheep-ranch." 

"  No ;  I  know  that  well  enough ;  but  the 
circumstances  in  this  case  were  peculiar.  The 
boy  is  an  orphan  who  was  brought  up  by  a  lady 
in  Boston,  a  certain  Miss  Catherine  Seabright, 
the  oldest  and  best  friend  my  wife  and  I  possess, 
and  when  she  wrote  to  us  some  time  ago  saying 
how  the  young  fellow  wanted  to  come  west  and 
get  to  work,  we  told  her  to  send  him  on  to  us 
on  trial." 

"How  old  is  he?" 

"  About  eighteen  :  same  age  as  Jamie." 

"  Hm !  Old  enough  to  be  useful,  anyhow. 
How's  he  going  to  pan  out?  " 

"  First-rate,  I  think.  As  you  say,  one  does 
not  care  to  have  a  useless  boy  hanging  around 
on  a  sheep-ranch,  and  we  did  not  invite  this 
one  to  come  without  due  consideration,  but  he's 
been  with  us  a  couple  of  months  now  and  I 
think  he's  going  to  do.     He  seems  to  take  to 


The  Spring  Creek   Ranch  i  3 

the  business  kindly  enough,  and  he's  a  great 
fellow  to  work — there's  no  tiring  him  out :  he's 
as  strong  as  a  little  horse  and  has  the  staying 
powers  of  a  coyote.  But  then  he's  built  for 
that  sort  of  thing,  if  ever  a  boy  was,  as  you'll 
see  for  yourself  in  a  moment,  for  here  they 
come." 

They  had  walked  up  to  the  house  during  this 
conversation,  and  as  my  father  uttered  these 
last  words  Stock  and  I  came  up  the  steps  and 
entered  the  front  hall,  when  my  companion 
turned  into  his  bedroom  to  get  his  coat,  while  I 
went  at  once  into  the  sitting-room. 

"  Well,  Jamie,"  said  Mr.  Meadows,  as  we 
shook  hands,  "  so  you've  got  a  new  friend,  I 
hear.     Pleasant  for  you,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  replied,  "  it's  fine.  It's  the  first 
time  in  all  the  twelve  years  I've  lived  here  on 
the  plains  that  I've  had  a  companion  of  my  own 
age  within  reach." 

"  That's  a  fact ;  though  it  hadn't  occurred  to 
me  before.  All  the  ranchmen's  families  about 
here  are  composed  of  children  five  or  six  years 
old,  aren't  they  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  mostly  girls  at  that.  There 
isn't  a  fellow  of  my  age  within  a  circle  of  thirty 


14  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

miles.  It's  a  great  thing  for  me  ;  and  I'm  glad 
to  say  we  seem  to  hit  it  off  together  first-rate. 
Here  he  is.  This  is  my  friend,  Stockton  Dale, 
Mr.  Meadows." 

As  my  new  friend  entered,  I  noticed  that  Mr. 
Meadows  opened  his  eyes  rather  widely — which 
was  not  surprising  ;  for  Stock  was  a  fellow  at 
whom  most  people  would  look  twice.  He  was 
not  very  tall,  five  feet-nine,  that  is — two  inches 
shorter  than  myself — but  otherwise  he  was 
twice  my  size.  He  was  so  wide-shouldered  that 
he  seemed  to  fill  the  doorway  as  he  came 
through,  while  the  arch  of  his  chest  and  the 
set  of  his  muscular  neck  would  convince  any- 
body— especially  one  like  Mr.  Meadows,  used  to 
judging  the  weight  and  quality  of  animals, 
men  included — that  he  was  an  unusually  stout 
fellow. 

Mr.  Meadows  shook  hands  with  him  very 
heartily,  and  then,  turning  to  me,  said :  "I 
rode  over  to-day,  Jamie,  to  ask  if  you  wouldn't 
come  down  to  my  place  on  Wednesday  and 
join  in  a  wolf-hunt.  Your  father  says  he  can't 
come,  but  I  hope  you  two  boys  will  join  us." 

I  looked  towards  my  companion.  "  You'd 
like  to,  wouldn't  you,  Stock  ?  "  said  I. 


The  Spring  Creek  Ranch  15 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  with  eagerness,  "  I  should 
be  glad  to  go," 

*'  All  right,  then,"  said  Mr.  Meadows,  "  I  shall 
expect  you.  Come  as  early  as  you  can  :  it  may 
be  an  all-day  job  and  I  want  to  make  an  early 
start.  In  fact,  you'd  better  come  down  the  day 
before,  and  then  we  can  get  off  about  sunrise." 

I  looked  to  my  father  for  permission,  who, 
nodding  his  head,  said,  "  Very  well.  Meadows, 
they  shall  ride  down  to-morrow  afternoon.  You 
can  take  the  gray  pony,  Jamie,  while  Stock  had 
better  take  the  big  brown  ;  he's  rather  a  heavy 
weight  and  needs  a  stout  horse  for  a  long  day's 
ride,  as  you  are  likely  to  have.  Is  it  a  general 
hunt  for  wolves  and  coyotes,  Meadows,  or  are 
you  after  any  beast  in  particular?  " 

"  I'm  going  after  one  in  particular,  or,  rather, 
two,  for  I  believe  there's  a  pair  of  them.  I'll 
tell  you  how  it  is.  You  know  my  southeast 
camp  in  the  fork  of  Texas  Creek  and  Little 
Texas  ?  Well,  three  or  four  times  during  the  last 
two  weeks  the  herders,  when  they  turned  out  the 
flocks  in  the  morning,  have  found  one  or  more 
dead  sheep  in  the  corral,  killed  and  partly  eaten. 
I  thought  at  first  it  might  be  a  coyote,  as  I  have 
seen  no  gray  wolves  about  for  a  long  time,  but  a 


1 6  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

coyote  will  seldom  jump  into  a  sheep-corral,  and 
besides  that  I  found  the  tracks  outside — much 
too  big  for  a  coyote,  and  so  many  of  them  that 
I  feel  sure  there  is  a  pair  of  the  marauders.  I 
have  set  traps  for  them  and  laid  out  poison,  but 
they  are  too  smart  to  touch  the  one  or  get 
caught  in  the  other  ;  I've  raised  the  height  of  the 
corral  and  put  up  barbed  wire,  but  it  is  no  use, 
they  get  in  just  the  same ;  for,  as  you  know, 
when  once  a  gray  wolf  has  taken  to  getting  into 
a  sheep-corral,  nothing  short  of  death  will  stop 
him." 

''That's  true,"  assented  my  father.  "It's 
curious  how  persistent  they  are  after  they  have 
once  formed  the  habit." 

"  Well,"  our  visitor  continued,  "  the  night  be- 
fore last  they  got  in  again  ;  they  killed  and  ate 
one  sheep  and  then  killed  six  others  just  for 
amusement.  I  thought  this  was  becoming 
monotonous,  so  I  determined  to  organize  a  hunt. 
I  have  found  that  the  tracks  of  the  wolves  lead 
down  Texas  Creek,  so  I  am  going  to  take  the  two 
hounds  and  all  the  men  I  can  gather  and  beat 
the  country  in  that  direction  first.  There  will 
be  nine  of  us :  we  three  and  my  foreman,  Sam 
Twitchell ;    old    George   Burrows   from    Rocky 


The  Spring  Creek  Ranch  17 

Draw  and  his  foreman  ;  Peter  Dent  from  Lower 
Sandy,  and  the  two  Stephensons." 

"  What's  your  plan,  Mr.  Meadows  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  We'll  line  out  on  either  side  of  Texas  Creek, 
four  on  each  side  a  quarter  of  a  mile  apart  and 
I  and  the  hounds  in  the  middle.  In  that  way 
we  can  cover  a  large  stretch  of  country,  and  I 
hope  one  or  other  of  us  will  put  up  the  wolves. 
If  we  find  them,  as  I  hope  we  may,  then  the 
hounds  will  do  the  rest." 

"  Have  they  ever  tackled  a  wolf  yet  ?  "  asked 
my  father.  "  I  know  they  have  killed  a  score  or 
more  of  coyotes,  but  a  gray  wolf  is  quite  another 
thing." 

"  I  know  it  is ;  but  I  think  the  hounds  will 
tackle  them  all  right.  It's  their  business,  you 
know ;  and  they  will  have  us  men  to  back 
them." 

Turning  to  Stock,  he  went  on  :  "  They  are 
Russian  wolf-hounds  ;  they  look  like  very  large 
long-haired  greyhounds  ;  the  larger  one  stands, 
I  suppose,  about  thirty  inches  at  the  shoulder, 
and  they  can  outrun  any  living  creature  on  the 
plains." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  ''  and  to  look  at  them  you'd 
think  they  were  only  fit  to  tackle  jack-rabbits 


1 8  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

and  such  things,  they  are  such  mild-mannered, 
gentlemanly-looking  dogs.  But  wait  till  you 
see  one  of  them  stretch  himself  and  yawn,  and 
then  you  will  notice  that  he  has  a  mouth  and  a 
set  of  teeth  like  a  crocodile's.  It's  no  wonder 
the  coyotes  are  always  in  such  a  desperate  hurry 
to  get  out  of  the  way  of  a  pair  of  jaws  like  those. 
What  were  the  names  you  gave  them,  Mr. 
Meadows,  when  you  first  got  them  ?  " 

Our  friend  laughed.  "That  wasn't  my 
doing,"  said  he  ;  "  that  was  Jo,  the  cook — old  Jo, 
you  know,  thinks  he's  a  good  deal  of  a  humorist. 
As  they  were  Russian  hounds,  he  thought  they 
ought  to  have  Russian  names,  or  at  least  names 
that  sounded  Russian,  and  so  he  called  them 
Bite-'em-in-two-ski  and  Snap-his-hind-leg-ofF. 
But  these  names  were  a  trifle  cumbersome  for 
general  use,  so  they  are  reserved  for  state  occa- 
sions, and  the  hounds  meanwhile  are  called  Czar 
and  Russ.  But  I  must  be  off.  No,  I  won't  stay 
to  dinner,  thank  you.  I  have  a  good  deal  to  do, 
so  I'll  start  back  at  once.  Good-bye.  I  shall 
look  for  you  two  to-morrow." 

Our  ranch  lay  in  a  sheltered  hollow  of  the 
plains  of  Southern  Colorado,  fifteen  miles  south 
of  the  railroad  and  forty  miles  northeast  of  the 


The  Spring  Creek  Ranch  19 

Trinity  range.  It  was  one  of  the  prettiest  places 
on  the  plains.  Behind  the  house,  to  the  north, 
rose  a  hill  about  two  hundred  feet  high,  out  of 
which  there  issued  a  number  of  strong  springs, 
uniting  to  form  a  stream  known  as  Spring  Creek. 
The  water  from  these  springs  not  only  furnished 
a  good  supply  to  the  house,  the  stables  and  the 
sheep-corrals,  but  it  enabled  us  to  maintain  a 
string  of  ponds  inhabited  by  innumerable  trout 
and  frequented  by  thousands  of  wild  ducks  and 
geese  as  they  passed  northward  or  southward  ac- 
cording to  the  season  of  the  year.  Moreover, 
this  ample  water-supply  furnished  irrigation  for 
a  large  number  of  trees  ;  an  unusual  thing  on 
the  plains  and  one  of  great  advantage  to  a 
sheepman,  for  there  is  nothing  like  three  or  four 
rows  of  trees  on  the  north  and  west  sides  of  your 
sheep-corrals  to  keep  the  winter  storms  from 
drifting  them  full  of  snow — they  are  infinitely 
superior  to  the  ordinary  snow-fences. 

Our  next-door-neighbor  on  the  south  was  our 
friend,  John  Meadows — though  when  I  use  the 
term  "  next-door-neighbor "  I  do  not  wish  to 
imply  that  we  were  at  all  crowded,  for,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  distance  between  the  two 
places  was  a  trifle  under  ten  miles — and  it  was 


20  Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

southward  therefore  that  Stock  and  I  set  off  on 
the  following  afternoon,  I  on  a  tough  little  gray 
pony  and  he  on  the  big  brown  horse. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day,  late  in  August.  A 
pleasant  breeze  stirred  the  feathery  tops  of  the 
grama  grass,  now  turning  yellow,  and  tempered 
the  heat  of  the  sun  which  beat  down  upon  us 
out  of  a  cloudless  sky.  In  all  directions  spread 
the  tawny  plains,  the  circle  unbroken,  save  to 
the  southwest  where,  forty  miles  away,  the  long 
line  of  the  Trinity  Mountains  stood  up  sharp 
and  clear  against  the  sky — so  sharp  and  clear, 
indeed,  that  any  one  unaccustomed  to  judge  of 
distances  in  that  transparent  atmosphere  would 
feel  sure  he  could  reach  them  in  an  hour's  easy 
gallop.  The  chattering  prairie-dogs  saluted  us 
as  we  went  by ;  an  occasional  coyote  would  trot 
leisurely  away  keeping  one  eye  on  us  over  his 
shoulder ;  or  a  bunch  of  antelope,  espying  us 
from  a  distant  hill,  would  come  galloping  up, 
and  standing  in  a  row  would  take  a  good  long 
stare  at  us,  until  a  puff  of  wind  blowing  from 
us  to  them  would  send  them  scooting  again. 

As  we  rode  gently  up  a  long  slope,  the  reins 
loose  upon  the  horses'  necks,  my  companion, 
turning  suddenl}"  to  me,  said: 


The  Spring  Creek  Ranch  21 

"  Jamie,  what  do  you  think  your  father  told 
me  this  morning  ?  He  said  I  had  been  sent  out 
here  on  trial ;  that  I  had  done  very  well  so  far ; 
and  that  on  the  first  of  next  month  he  was  going 
to  begin  paying  me  wages." 

"  Did  he ! "  I  exclaimed,  delighted  to  hear 
that  my  new  chum  had  so  quickly  earned  my 
father's  good  opinion.     ''  That's  great !  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  he  said  I  was  to  consult  with  you 
as  to  whether  I  should  take  my  pay  in  money 
or  in  sheep." 

''  Then  take  it  in  sheep,  Stock,  by  all  means. 
It  makes  you  a  sort  of  partner  in  the  business, 
you  see.  Your  sheep  run  with  the  rest,  you 
pay  your  proportion  of  the  expenses  and  receive 
your  proportion  of  the  money  coming  in  from 
the  sale  of  the  wool  and  the  mutton.  That's 
the  way  I  do.  You  will  need  a  little  of  it  for 
clothes — that's  about  your  only  outlay — and  the 
rest  you  can  put  back  into  sheep ;  and  so  your 
little  flock  gets  bigger  and  bigger  every  year. 
Put  your  wages  into  sheep,  old  chap,  by  all 
means." 

"  I  will,  Jamie  ;  and  I'm  tremendously  obliged 
to  your  father  for  giving  me  such  an  opportu- 
nity, because "     He  paused  for  a  moment, 


22  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

and  then  went  on  :  "I  never  told  you,  Jamie, 
did  I,  why  I  was  so  anxious  to  come  out  here 
and  get  to  work  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  replied.  "  I  only  know  what  my 
father  told  me  :  that  you  did  not  take  to  office- 
work  and  so  wanted  to  come  out  west." 

Stock  nodded.  ''Well,"  said  he,  "I'll  just 
tell  you,  and  then  you'll  understand.  I  was  left 
an  orphan,  as  you've  heard,  when  I  was  two 
years  old  and  Aunt  Catherine — that's  Miss 
Seabright,  you  know,  who  is  no  relation  as  it 
happens — she  took  me  in.  She  was  pretty  well 
off  at  that  time  and  was  well  able  to  afford  it, 
but  about  three  3'ears  later  some  fellow,  a  cousin 
of  hers,  I  believe,  ran  off  with  four-fifths  of  her 
money,  leaving  her  in  comparative  poverty. 
What  became  of  this  cousin  and  the  money 
nobody  knows.  I  was  a  little  chap  of  five  then, 
and  of  course  I  knew  nothing  about  all  this,  and 
it  was  not  until  just  lately  that  I  found  out  by 
accident  how  Aunt  Catherine  had  been  pinch- 
ing and  scraping  all  these  j^ears  to  maintain  me 
and  keep  me  at  school." 

"  I  see,"  said  I,  nodding  my  head  ;  "  and  so 
you  decided  to  go  to  work." 

"  Yes,"  he  replied.     "  I  went   and    told    her 


The  Spring   Creek   Ranch  23 

that  I  was  going  to  get  to  work  at  once,  and 
when  she  found  I  meant  it  she  wrote  right  off 
to  your  father  and — and  here  I  am." 

"  I'm  glad  you  are,"  said  I. 

"  Thanks,"  said  he,  smiling.  And  then,  after 
a  thoughtful  pause  he  continued  :  ''  There's  an- 
other thing  I'll  tell  you,  Jamie,  though  I  haven't 
said  anything  about  it  to  anybody  else  :  I  never 
expect  to  be  able  to  repay  all  her  kindness  to 
me — in  that  particular  I'm  content  to  remain 
her  debtor, — but  the  money  part  of  it  is  differ- 
ent ;  some  day,  however  long  it  may  take,  I  in- 
tend, if  I  can,  to  pay  back  to  Aunt  Catherine 
every  penny  of  the  money  she  has  expended 
upon  me.  And  that  is  why  I  was  so  anxious  to 
get  to  work  at  once." 

It  was  an  odd  circumstance,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
that  this  conversation  should  have  taken  place 
while  we  were  riding  down  to  the  Meadows 
place,  for  it  happened,  curiously  enough — 
though  of  course  we  had  no  suspicion  of  it 
at  the  time — that  this  wolf-hunt  was  to  be 
the  first  step  in  the  direction  of  the  singular 
adventure  into  which  Stock  and  I  afterwards 
drifted  in  his  effort  to  carry  out  his  resolution. 

I   have   often  urged  upon  my  partner,  who 


24  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

was  the  one  chiefly  concerned,  the  propriety 
of  writing  out  the  history  of  this  adventure. 
Leaving  out  of  account  the  fact  that  to  it  was 
directly  due  the  founding  of  the  firm  of  Dale 
and  Fraser,  sheepmen,  the  adventure  itself  was 
of  a  kind  which  every  year  grows  less  and  less 
likely  to  recur  as  time  goes  on  and  the  country 
becomes  settled  up.  But  Stock  has  persistently 
declined,  saying,  not  unreasonably,  "  Well, 
Jamie,  if  you  want  it  done,  do  it  yourself" 

And  so,  though  with  a  good  deal  of  diffidence, 
for  my  business  is  to  handle  sheep  rather  than 
to  handle  a  pen,  I  have  set  myself  to  the  task, 
hoping,  at  least,  that  I  may  be  able  to  make  a 
straight  and  understandable  story  of  it. 


CHAPTER  II 

The  Wolf-Hunt 

WE  reached  the  Meadows  place  early  in  the 
afternoon,  and  were  welcomed  by  our  host 
in  the  hearty  manner  which  prevails  among  the 
sheepmen  of  the  plains. 

"Is  this  the  first  time  you  have  been  away 
from  the  ranch,  Stock  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  led  the 
way  into  the  house. 

"  Not  quite,  sir,"  replied  my  companion.  "  I 
made  a  call  at  the  Draper  ranch  one  day  lately, 
twelve  miles  north  of  Spring  Creek,  you  know." 

"  Ah,  did  you  ?  Making  a  call  here  is  a  very 
different  matter  from  what  it  is  back  in  Boston, 
isn't  it?" 

"  I  should  think  it  was,"  replied  Stock,  with 
much  feeling.  "  There,  you  ring  the  bell,  hand 
in  a  visiting-card,  and  then,  with  one  eye  on 
the  clock,  sit  bolt  upright  on  the  edge  of  a  chair 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  feeling  as  though  you 
had  been  born  foolish  and  had  never  got  over 
it.  But  here,  it's  quite  another  matter  :  You 
25 


26  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

gallop  up  to  the  house,  and  before  you  have 
time  to  dismount  the  door  flies  open  and  out 
comes  somebody  with  a  *  Hallo,  boys !  How 
are  you  ?  Come  right  in.  Supper  '11  be  ready 
directly.     Going  to  stay  a  week  ?  '  " 

"  Yes.  And  sometimes  you  do  stay  a  week, 
if  work  is  slack  at  home,  as  it  may  be  now  and 
then  in  the  fall  after  the  hay  is  in  and  before 
you  have  to  begin  hauling  the  winter's  supply 
of  coal  and  corn.  For  my  part,  I  prefer  the 
western  style." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Stock,  with  much  heartiness  ; 
and  I  think  ninety-nine  boys  in  a  hundred  will 
agree  with  him. 

One  by  one  the  members  of  the  hunt  rode  in 
from  different  directions,  all  except  the  two 
Stephensons,  who,  as  they  lived  eighteen  miles 
to  the  southeast,  had  arranged  to  meet  the  party 
in  the  morning  at  the  sheep-camp  whence  we 
were  to  make  our  first  cast. 

Stock  was  introduced  to  the  different  ranch- 
men, and  at  six  o'clock  we  sat  down  to  supper 
in  the  big  kitchen — for  Mr.  Meadows  was  a 
bachelor — waited  upon  by  Jo,  the  cook  and 
facetious  namer  of  wolf-hounds. 

"  How  was  your  hay  crop  this  year,  Jamie  ?  " 


The  Wolf-Hunt  27 

asked  old  George  Burrows,  as  he  helped  himself 
plentifully  to  the  rautton-stew  and  potatoes. 
"  Ought  to  have  been  pretty  good  after  such  a 
wet  spring." 

"Fine,"  I  replied.  "We  put  up  eight  big 
stacks,  and  as  we  had  three  left  over  from  last 
year  we  are  well  fixed  for  the  winter." 

"  That's  good.  We  had  a  fine  crop  ourselves, 
too,  though  we  didn't  get  near  so  much  rain  as 
you  did.  Queer  how  the  weather  runs  in 
streaks  across  these  plains.  You  may  have  the 
wettest  season  in  years  at  one  place,  while  fifty 
miles  away  the  springs  will  dry  up  and  the 
range-cattle  die  for  want  of  water." 

"  That's  a  fact,"  assented  our  host.  "  And  it's 
the  same  with  snow-storms  in  winter.  How  do 
you  like  haying,  Stock?"  addressing  my  com- 
panion. "Good  hard  work,  isn't  it?  for  a  nov- 
ice, at  least." 

"  Yes  ;  and  I'm  afraid  I  was  a  pretty  awkward 
novice.  About  the  first  thing  I  did  was  to  break 
a  fork-handle  trying  to  pitch  a  hay-cock  on  to 
the  wagon.  I  found  afterwards  that  I  had  stuck 
the  fork  six  inches  into  the  ground  and  was  try- 
ing to  hoist  old  Mother  Earth." 

They  all  laughed  at  this,  and  Peter  Dent,  as 


28  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

he  passed  his  cup  for  more  coffee,  said,  ''  Our 
man,  Tom  Sweetzer,  got  a  bit  of  a  scare  this  hay- 
ing. I  pitched  a  forkful  of  hay  on  the  wagon 
and  sent  up  a  rattler  with  it,  Tom  was  doing 
the  loading,  and  the  snake  fell  right  at  his  feet. 
You'd  ought  to  have  seen  him  get  off  that 
wagon." 

"  Many  rattlers  this  season,  Pete  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Meadows. 

"  Fairish.  The  herders  at  the  Short  Creek 
camp  have  killed  about  thirty-five.  They  killed 
over  ninety  though  last  year — they  were  pretty 
thick  that  season." 

"  Ninety  !  "  exclaimed  Stock,  in  astonishment. 
"  I'd  no  idea  that  rattlesnakes  were  so  common 
as  that.     It  must  be  dangerous  going  about." 

"  It  is  only  in  spots  that  you  find  so  many," 
explained  Mr.  Meadows.  "  They  are  like  the 
weather :  they  run  in  streaks.  Peter  Dent's 
Short  Creek  camp  and  my  summer  camp  at 
Thompson's  Bend  are  favorite  spots  with  them  ; 
but  in  general  you  only  come  across  them  once 
in  a  while.  It  is  a  fortunate  thing  that  they 
always  give  notice  when  you  come  near  them 
or  they  would  be  a  good  deal  more  dangerous 
than  they  are.     Did  you  ever  hear  one  rattle?  " 


The  Wolf-Hunt  29 

"  No,  I  never  did." 

"  It's  a  startling  sound,  and  unmistakable 
when  you've  heard  it  once.  It's  a  sound,  too, 
that  you  never  get  used  to.  I'll  defy  any  man, 
no  matter  how  often  he  has  heard  it,  not  to 
jump  when  he  hears  the  '  Biz'  of  a  rattler  some- 
where close  by  in  the  long  grass." 

''  Do  the  sheep  often  get  bitten  ?  "  asked  Stock. 

"  Every  now  and  then — nearly  always  in  the 
nose,  as  is  natural.  But  they  seldom  die  ;  their 
heads  swell  up  and  you  have  to  lance  them,  but 
they  nearly  always  recover.  Same  with  dogs ; 
and  as  to  pigs,  why,  they'd  just  as  soon  be  bitten 
as  not.     But  then  they  always  take  an  antidote." 

"What's  that?"  asked  my  companion. 

"  Why,  they  eat  the  snake." 

"  They  are  telling  a  snake-story  in  town,"  re- 
marked Sam  Twitchell,  the  foreman,  "  which 
sounds  to  me  a  trifle  fishy.  They  say  a  man 
was  driving  one  of  these  new  rubber-tired  sul- 
kies, when  he  ran  over  a  rattler.  The  snake 
coiled  itself  around  the  spokes,  and  every  time 
the  wheel  came  round  he  took  a  snap  at  the 
driver.  But  he  couldn't  reach  him,  and  so,  after 
scratching  his  head  and  considering  a  while,  he 
concluded  to  bite  the  tire  and  let  out  the  wind. 


30  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

He  did  so  ;  but  the  air,  rushing  out  of  the  tire, 
went  down  the  snake's  throat,  and  as  the  tire 
flattened  down  the  inflated  rattler  was  drawn 
into  its  place,  and  there  he  hung  by  his  front 
teeth,  acting  as  a  rubber  tire  in  spite  of  himself, 
until  the  horse  stopped.  The  driver  said  he 
never  did  see  a  rattler  look  so  huffy  as  that  one 
did  when  he  unhooked  himself  and  walked 
off-." 

With  the  laughter  this  story  evoked  the  sup- 
per ended  and  we  all  adjourned  to  the  sitting- 
room,  where  for  a  couple  of  hours  we  boys  sat 
listening  to  the  talk  of  our  elders,  occasionally 
answering  or  putting  in  a  question,  until,  about 
half-past  eight.  Stock  and  I  went  oflP  to  bed, 
knowing  that  we  should  have  to  be  up  about 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

It  seemed  to  make  no  difference  to  Jo,  the 
cook,  that  the  family  to  be  provided  with  a 
breakfast  was  three  or  four  times  as  large  as 
usual,  or  that  that  meal  was  to  be  served  two 
hours  before  the  regular  time.  That  sort  of 
thing  happens  pretty  frequently  on  a  sheep- 
ranch  and  the  cook  gets  used  to  it.  We  had  no 
more  than  fed  and  rubbed  down  our  horses 
when  his  stentorian  voice  was  heard  proclaiming 


The  Wolf-Hunt  31 

to  all  that  part  of  Southern  Colorado  that  break- 
fast was  ready  on  the  Meadows  ranch. 

The  sun  was  just  rising  as  the  party  set  out ; 
the  two  long-legged  wolf-hounds,  with  their 
easy,  springy  trot,  following  close  at  the  heels 
of  Mr.  Meadows'  horse.  Two  or  three  times,  as 
we  jogged  along,  we  caught  sight  of  a  coyote, 
which,  having  undoubtedly  himself  caught  sight 
of  us,  was  getting  out  of  that  neighborhood  with 
all  possible  dispatch.  It  rather  surprised  me 
that  the  hounds  did  not  rush  off  in  pursuit, 
until  our  host  informed  us  that  they  were  trained 
not  to  give  chase  until  laid  on. 

In  due  time  we  reached  the  camp  in  the  fork 
of  the  creeks,  and  here  the  two  Stephensons 
joined  us,  when  the  hunt  was  at  once  organized. 

The  crooked  course  of  Texas  Creek,  in  which 
at  this  season  of  the  year  there  was  little  water, 
runs  generally  in  a  southeastern  direction,  and 
along  its  sandy  bed  rode  Mr.  Meadows,  followed 
by  the  hounds,  while  the  other  eight  riders 
spread  themselves  out  in  a  long  line  on  either 
side ;  those  on  the  smallest  horses  having  their 
stations  nearest  the  creek.  By  this  arrangement 
my  place  fell  next  to  Mr.  Meadows  on  his  right, 
while  Stock,  who  had  the  biggest  and  strongest 


32  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

horse  of  anybody,  had  the  position  farthest  away 
on  the  same  side.  Between  us  two  were  old 
George  Burrows  and  the  younger  Stephenson, 
each  being  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant 
from  the  next  horseman.  It  was  arranged  that 
any  one  sighting  the  wolves  should  stop  and 
hold  up  one  hand  as  a  signal  to  the  others. 

Away  we  rode,  up  and  down  the  innumerable 
hills — for  the  country  is  very  uneven  along  the 
course  of  Texas  Creek — sometimes  the  whole 
nine  of  us  being  visible  to  each  other  at  the 
same  moment,  while  at  other  times  every  mem- 
ber of  the  hunt  was  concealed  from  every  other 
in  the  hollows. 

We  had  ridden  thus  for  about  an  hour,  when, 
on  reaching  the  top  of  a  stiff  rise,  I  saw  that 
Dan  Stephenson,  whose  position  was  farthest 
away  on  the  left,  had  abandoned  his  station  and 
was  galloping  down  towards  the  creek.  He  was 
the  only  one  visible  on  that  side,  and  what  his 
object  could  be  I  could  not  imagine,  until,  turn- 
ing to  look  the  other  way,  I  saw  on  top  of  a  hill 
a  mile  away  the  burly  figure  of  Stock  on  his  big 
horse  outlined  against  the  sky.  He  was  sitting 
still  as  a  statue  with  his  hand  held  high  above 
his  head.     It  w^as  the  signal,  and  Dan  Stephen- 


The  Wolf-Hunt  33 

son,  two  miles  away,  had  been  the  first  to  see 
it. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Meadows  rode  into  sight. 
To  him  I  shouted  and  waved  my  hand,  and  as 
soon  as  I  saw  that  he  had  started  towards  me  I 
turned  and  rode  away  in  the  direction  of  Stock, 
who  was  still  sitting  there  with  his  hand  above 
his  head.  Huntsman  and  hounds  presently 
caught  up  with  me  ;  we  gathered  up  old  Burrows 
and  the  younger  Stephenson,  and  pretty  soon  we 
four  were  assembled  about  Stock,  while  the 
others,  we  could  see,  were  coming  as  fast  as  they 
could  to  join  us. 

"  Where  did  you  see  them.  Stock  ?  "  cried  Mr. 
Meadows. 

"  Down  that  way,"  replied  my  companion 
pointing  westward ;  "they  passed  across  that 
opening  there,  two  of  them,  going  northward  up 
the  draw  ;  traveling  pretty  fast,  too." 

"  Ah,  they've  seen  us,  I  expect.  Come  on. 
We  can't  wait  for  the  others." 

Down  the  slope  we  rode,  across  the  hollow  and 
up  the  hill  on  the  other  side.  On  the  top  we 
drew  up  and  scanned  the  country.  For  a  mo- 
ment we  could  see  no  sign  of  the  enem}^  but 
presently  old  Burrows,  who  in  spite  of  his  sixty 


34  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

years  was  as  keen-eyed  as  a  hawk,  exclaimed  : 
"  There  they  go,  look  ;  there  they  go  !  " 

Following  the  direction  of  his  hand,  we  saw, 
a  long  half-mile  away,  two  large  gray  animals 
slipping  swiftly  along  on  the  side  of  a  hill. 
Even  at  that  distance  we  could  see  that  they 
were  too  big  for  coyotes,  and  we  had  little  doubt 
that  they  were  the  much  sought-after  sheep- 
killers. 

''  Tst !  Tst !  "  went  Mr.  Meadows  through  his 
teeth ;  and  at  the  signal  the  two  hounds,  which 
hitherto  had  appeared  to  take  no  interest  in  any- 
thing, lifted  their  heads  and  looked  about  them. 
In  a  moment  they  had  sighted  the  wolves ;  and 
the  next  instant  they  were  gone. 

Phew  !  How  those  dogs  could  run  !  In  two 
seconds,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  they  had  left  us  half 
a  mile  behind. 

The  wolves  instantly  discovered  that  they 
were  the  objects  of  pursuit,  and  away  they  went, 
westward,  as  hard  as  they  could  go.  The  pace 
was  tremendous  and  very  soon  tested  the  re- 
spective qualities  of  the  four  horses  present. 
Stock,  who,  though  the  heaviest  of  us  all,  had 
much  the  largest  and  most  powerful  horse,  soon 
forged    to    the    front ;    Mr.    Meadows,    young 


The  Wolf-Hunt  35 

Stephenson  and  old  Burrows  came  behind  him 
in  a  bunch  ;  while  I  on  my  little  gray  pony 
gradually  fell  to  the  rear.  The  others  of  the 
party  were  far  behind,  and  in  fact  were  never  in 
the  hunt  at  all. 

At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Stock  was 
so  far  ahead  of  the  other  three,  and  they  so  far 
ahead  of  me,  that  it  looked  as  though  I  also 
should  soon  be  out  of  the  hunt.  And  so  I 
should  have  been,  but  for  a  fortunate  accident. 

On  reaching  the  summit  of  a  rather  high,  flat- 
topped  hill,  I  saw  the  three  riders  pounding 
across  the  valley  below,  making  for  the  hill  op- 
posite. On  the  top  of  this  elevation  was  Stock, 
still  galloping  westward  ;  the  wolves  and  hounds 
being  concealed  from  my  view.  As  I  watched, 
however,  I  saw  Stock  suddenly  change  his  course 
from  due  west  to  east  of  north.  I  knew  the  lie 
of  the  land,  and  it  w^as  evident  to  me  that  the 
wolves  had  turned  up  a  long  draw,  at  the  head 
of  which,  some  four  miles  distant,  was  one  of 
our  own  summer  camps.  After  shouting  in  vain 
to  my  three  friends,  who  from  their  position  in 
the  valley  were  unable  to  see  what  was  going  on 
ahead  of  them,  I  turned  due  north  mj^self, 
hoping  to  cut  across  the  course  of  the  chase. 


36  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

At  the  end  of  another  fifteen  minutes  1 
reached  the  long  draw  I  was  making  for,  and 
there  to  my  great  delight  was  the  whole  hunt 
spread  out  beneath  me. 

Still  three  hundred  yards  in  the  lead  were  the 
wolves,  and  very  much  to  my  surprise,  instead 
of  two  there  were  three  of  them.  Evidently  the 
original  pair  had  picked  up  a  stranger,  and  he, 
unfortunately  for  himself  as  it  turned  out,  had 
elected  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  his  kindred.  This 
addition  to  their  force  was  a  serious  matter,  for 
a  full-grown  gray  wolf  is  a  pretty  tough  cus- 
tomer. If  the  hounds  could  overtake  them  one 
at  a  time,  well  and  good  ;  but  if  it  came  to  a 
tussle  with  all  three  at  once,  I  feared  they  might 
come  off  second  best.  The  wolves  I  could  see 
were  becoming  distressed,  for  they  had  been 
forced  beyond  their  natural  pace,  while  the 
hounds,  still  going  strong,  were  gradually  clos- 
ing up  the  space  between  them. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  behind  the  hounds 
rode  Stock — the  others  were  not  yet  in  sight — 
who,  seeing  me,  called  out :  "  Come  on,  Jamie, 
we  shall  catch  'em  directly."  Down  the  hill  I 
rode  therefore  and  fell  in  a  little  in  his  rear ; 
which    position,    thanks    to    the    comparative 


The  Wolf-Hunt  37 

freshness  of  my  pony,  I  was  now  able  to  main- 
tain. 

It  was  a  silent  hunt,  for  neither  wolves  nor 
hounds  had  a  breath  to  spare,  and  in  this  order 
on  we  went,  the  only  change  being  that  gradu- 
ally we  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  chase. 
Once,  for  an  instant,  when  we  had  come  within 
a  hundred  yards  of  them,  the  wolves  stopped 
and  turned,  evidently  with  the  idea  of  fighting 
it  out  there  and  then ;  but  the  presence  of  the 
two  riders  daunted  them  and  on  they  went 
again.  At  length  we  turned  a  slight  bend 
in  the  draw,  and  there  before  us  stood  our 
summer  camp,  the  door  of  the  herders'  cabin 
wide  open — much  to  my  surprise,  for  the  sheep 
had  gone  out  at  least  two  hours  before  and  the 
herders  are  always  careful  to  shut  their  door 
after  them. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  wonderment,  for  at 
sight  of  the  cabin  the  wolves  seemed  to  become 
possessed  with  a  new  idea  and  putting  forth  a 
final  effort  they  made  straight  for  the  open  door. 
The  hounds,  too,  apparently  divined  their  inten- 
tion and  spurted  to  such  good  effect  that  the 
whole  five,  wolves  and  hounds,  went  tumbling 
into  the  cabin  together. 


38  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

Such  a  racket  as  followed  I  never  heard  ;  but 
above  it  all  there  arose  one  sharp  cry  of  a  human 
voice,  whether  in  fear,  pain  or  surprise  I  could 
not  determine — somebody  was  in  the  cabin  ! 

Stock,  of  course,  was  the  first  to  gallop  up, 
and  springing  from  his  horse  he  rushed  in.  It 
was  a  strange  sight  that  met  his  gaze. 

There  were  the  five  fierce  animals  fighting  to- 
gether, snapping,  snarling  and  yelling,  a  mass 
of  hair,  legs  and  teeth,  while  beneath  them,  flat 
on  his  face,  was  a  Mexican  boy,  trying  vainly  to 
crawl  out. 

Regardless  of  the  snapping  jaws,  Stock  sprang 
in,  grasped  the  boy  by  his  arms,  and  dragging 
him  out  of  the  cabin  set  him  upon  his  feet. 
The  boy,  who  was  only  about  fifteen  years  old 
and  small  for  his  age,  gasped  and  staggered  for 
a  moment,  but  the  instant  he  got  his  breath 
again,  to  our  great  astonishment  he  ran  back 
into  the  cabin,  seized  the  big  butcher-knife  from 
its  rack  on  the  wall,  and  springing  apparently 
into  the  very  midst  of  the  fighting  mass,  with 
a  single  dexterous  blow  he  killed  one  of  the 
wolves.  Then  round  and  round  the  combatants 
he  hopped,  awaiting  his  chance,  until  presently 
in  he  went  again  and  another  wolf  was  stretched 


The  Wolf-Hunt  39 

lifeless  on  the  floor.  It  was  finely  done.  The 
remaining  wolf  had  no  chance  against  the  two 
hounds ;  in  another  moment  it  also  was  dead, 
and  the  hunt  was  over. 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Boy  fkom  Obispo 

"  T  T  TELL  done,  youngster  !  "  exclaimed  Stock, 

^  ^  patting  the  boy  on  his  shoulder.  "  You 
are  a  brick  !  " 

The  little  Mexican,  whose  knowledge  of  Eng- 
lish was  limited,  did  not  in  the  least  understand 
why  he  should  be  called  a  brick,  but  it  was  ob- 
viously meant  for  a  compliment,  and  so, 
smilingly  he  replied : 

"  Ah,  senor,  it  is  not  me  who  is  so  much  a 
breek,  it  is  the  senor  who  have  pull  me  out 
when  I  am  down  there  under  the  wolfs." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  be  there?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  stay  here  in  this  house  last  night,  senor, 
with  Jose  Quintano  and  Albino  Lopez.  They 
come  from  Obispo,  over  across  the  Trinity 
Mountains.  I,  too,  come  from  Obispo.  I  help 
them  this  morning  take  out  the  sheep,  and  then 
I  come  back  and  wash  the  dishes  and  sweep  the 
room  and  clean  the  stove.  I  am  on  my  knees 
40 


The  Boy  from  Obispo  41 

by  the  stove,  when,  bang !  there  come  in  three 
wolfs  and  two  big  dogs.  I  am  knock  down  and 
they  fight  all  over  me — it  is  very  discomfortable. 
I  cannot  get  out,  and  I  think  in  my  head,  *  Now 
pretty  quick  I  am  all  tore  up  in  small  pieces.' 
But  the  senor  he  pull  me  out  and,  lo-behold,  I 
am — how  do  you  say  ? — I  am  '  right  side  up 
with  care.*     I  am  not  hurt  one  little  bit." 

"  Well,  that's  satisfactory.  It  certainly  was 
an  uncomfortable  position.  But  we  must  attend 
to  the  animals.  Drag  out  the  wolves.  Stock, 
will  you  ?  while  I  loosen  the  girths  of  the  horses. 
You,  boy,  give  the  hounds  some  water:  they 
need  it." 

By  the  time  this  was  done,  Mr.  Meadows  and 
his  two  companions  had  ridden  up,  and  to  them 
we  related  the  part  taken  in  the  affair  by  the  lit- 
tle Mexican. 

"  That  was  very  well  done,"  said  Mr.  Meadows. 
"  The  hounds  would  have  had  a  hard  time  of  it 
without  help.     Are  they  much  cut  up?  " 

The  hounds  were  examined  and  their  wounds 
washed  and  doctored  by  Mr.  Meadows,  who  was 
much  gratified  to  find  that  they  were  not 
seriously  injured,  for,  thanks  to  the  promptness 
of  the  Mexican  boy,  the  fight  had  hardly  lasted 


42  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

two  minutes  altogether.  While  this  was  being 
done,  old  Burrows  was  inspecting  the  dead 
wolves. 

"  I  guess  you've  got  your  sheep-stealers  all 
right,  Meadows,"  said  he.  "  One  of  these  wolves 
is  a  young  one,  but  the  others  are  old  fellows 
and  both  of  them  have  scraps  of  wool  stuck  be- 
tween their  teeth." 

*'  Well,  that's  gratifying.  And  now — home 
again  !  No  more  hunting  to-day.  It  was  a  hard 
run,  and  both  hounds  and  horses  will  be  glad  to 
quit.  Will  you  come  back  with  us,  Jamie,  or  do 
you  prefer  to  go  home  from  here?  " 

"  I  think  we  may  as  well  go  on  home,"  I 
replied.     "  We  are  half  way  there  already." 

"  Very  well,  then  we'll  say  '  Good-bye.'  I'm 
much  obliged  to  you  for  your  help,  both  of  you." 

"  It  has  been  fine  fun  for  me,  sir,"  replied 
Stock,  as  they  shook  hands. 

"  Yes,  you  were  in  luck,  weren't  you  ?  Well, 
I  hope  you'll  come  again  whenever  there's  a 
hunt  on  hand ;  though  for  that  matter  you 
needn't  wait  for  a  hunt :  come  whenever  you  can 
and  stay  as  long  as  you  like.     Good-bye." 

"Good-bye,  sir;  and  thank  you." 

With    that   the   three   horsemen  rode   away, 


The  Boy  from  Obispo  43 

leaving   Stock   and   me   and   the  Mexican  boy 
standing  outside  the  cabin. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  turning  to  the  boy,  ''  where 
are  you  going  ?     Are  you  looking  for  work  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  sir,  I  look  for  work,  sheep-herding — 
any  work.  My  father  and  my  mother  is  dead. 
My  grandfather  he  live  at  Obispo ;  he  very  old 
man,  he  cannot  work  no  more.  I  work,  I  get 
much  money,  I  send  it  to  the  good  padre  and  so 
my  grandfather  shall  not  have  hunger." 

"  Did  the  good  padre  send  you  out  to  look  for 
work?" 

**  Yes,  sir.  He  give  me  this,"  taking  a  scrap 
of  paper  from  his  pocket  and  handing  it  to  me. 
"  He  say,  '  take  this  and  go  ;  I  will  care  for  your 
grandfather. '  " 

I  took  the  piece  of  paper  and  read  :  "  This  is 
Jose  Maria  Sandoval.  Any  one  employing  him 
will  find  him  a  good  and  faithful  worker. 
Michael  Burke,  Padre  of  Obispo." 

"  The  padre  appears  to  be  an  Irishman,"  re- 
marked Stock. 

''  Yes,  he  is  an  Irishman  and  a  Catholic,  and 
for  many  years  he  has  been  the  priest  of  the  lit- 
tle village  of  Obispo.  But  whatever  his  nation- 
ality and  his  creed,  he  is  a  fine  old  fellow,  to 


44  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

judge  from  the  affection  and  respect  he  in- 
spires in  all  these  Mexicans.  You  didn't  know, 
did  you,  that  all  our  herders  come  from  Obispo  ? 
For  several  years  now,  whenever  my  father  needs 
a  new  herder  he  always  writes  a  request  to  the 
good  padre  to  send  him  one,  which  he  always 
does,  and  they  are  always  good  men.  Though 
we  have  never  seen  him,  he  has  been  a  valuable 
friend  to  us ;  and  as  to  the  Mexicans,  ask  any  of 
them  and  you  will  get  the  same  answer,  '  There 
is  no  one  like  the  good  padre.'     Eh,  Jose?  " 

The  youngster's  eyes  brightened.  He  had  not 
understood  all  I  had  said,  but  the  last  words 
were  clear  to  him  and  he  replied  quickly  and 
eagerly,  "  Si,  senor,  si,  seiior.  There  is  no  one 
like  the  good  padre." 

"  I  should  like  to  meet  him,"  said  Stock. 

"  So  should  I.  Perhaps  we  can  manage  it 
some  time.  It  would  make  a  nice  trip.  It  is 
an  out-of-the-way  place,  this  Obispo  valley,  so 
hard  to  reach  over  the  high  passes  of  the  Trinity 
range  that  people  seldom  go  in  there,  and  conse- 
quently not  much  is  known  of  it.  If  my  father 
will  let  us,  w^e'll  make  an  expedition  there  some 
day.  Not  this  fall,  I'm  afraid,  but  next  year, 
perhaps." 


The  Boy  from  Obispo  45 

*'  That  would  be  fine.  But  how  about  this 
youngster,  Jamie?  Do  you  know  any  one  who 
wants  a  herder  ?  " 

"  Why,  I've  been  thinking  about  that.  You 
know,  my  father  has  just  bought  that  little 
place  down  at  Badger  Springs,  which  he  pro- 
poses to  stock  with  those  Mexican  ewes  he  has 
contracted  for  with  old  Francisco  Trujillo. 
Well,  when  they  get  here  he  intends  to  put 
them  in  charge  of  Juan  Vigil ;  and  why 
shouldn't  this  youngster  take  Juan's  place? 
The  work  is  not  hard  :  milking  the  cows,  look- 
ing after  the  horses,  tending  the  invalid  sheep 
about  the  home  place,  and  that  sort  of  thing. 
He  could  do  it  all  right.    What  do  you  think  ?  " 

''  Good  idea !  Do  you  savvy  all  that,  Hi- 
dalgo?" 

The  boy  grinned  at  being  addressed  by  such 
a  grand  title,  for  in  Spanish  the  word  **  Hidalgo  " 
means  "  son  of  somebody,"  meaning  somebod}' 
of  importance  ;  whereas  the  youngster's  parents 
had  never  pretended  to  be  anybody  of  impor- 
tance. He  merely  shook  his  head,  however, 
and  replied,  "  No,  sir." 

"Tell  him,  Jamie,  will  you?"  said  Stock. 
"  You  can  speak  Spanish." 


46  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

I  explained  our  plan  to  the  boy,  who  very 
readily  and  with  many  thanks  agreed  to  it. 
This  being  arranged,  Stock  and  I  once  more 
mounted  our  horses  and  away  we  went,  the  boy 
trotting  beside  us. 

We  had  made  such  an  early  start  that  morn- 
ing from  the  Meadows  place  that  we  reached 
home  before  dinner  time  ;  my  father  and  mother, 
who  had  seen  us  coming,  being  both  seated  on 
the  piazza  awaiting  us. 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  the  latter.  "  You  are  back 
early  ;  did  you  give  up  the  hunt?  " 

"  Not  by  any  means,"  replied  Stock.  "  We 
had  a  grand  hunt ;  killed  three  wolves.  This 
little  chap  here  killed  two  of  them  with  his  own 
hand — though  you  wouldn't  think  it  to  look  at 
him." 

"  You  certainly  wouldn't.  Tell  us  all  about 
it." 

We  related  the  history  of  our  morning's  ad- 
venture, laying  particular  stress  on  the  quick- 
ness and  courage  of  the  little  Mexican,  and 
winding  up  with  the  suggestion  that  he  be  given 
the  place  of  Juan  Vigil  when  the  latter  should 
take  his  departure  to  the  Badger  Springs  camp. 

♦'  Give  me  your  scrap  of  paper,  Jose,"  said  I ; 


The  Boy  from  Obispo  47 

and  handing  it  to  my  father,  I  continued  :  ''  See, 
father,  he  has  a  recommendation  from  the  good 
padre." 

"  Ah !  That  is  recommendation  enough  for 
anybody.  Well,  Jamie,  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll 
do.  Those  Mexican  ewes  are  to  be  ready  for  de- 
livery at  El  Nido  on  the  fifth  of  September.  I 
had  intended  sending  you  boys  and  Juan  down 
there  to  bring  them  up.  As  it  is,  this  boy  can 
go  with  you  instead  of  Juan,  and  if  he  proves 
himself  to  be,  as  the  good  padre  says,  a  good 
and  faithful  worker,  he  shall  take  Juan's  place 
when  Juan  goes  on  to  the  new  camp  with  the 
flock." 

This  was  very  gratifying  to  Stock  and  me,  for 
we  had  taken  a  great  fancy  for  the  little  fellow  : 
he  was  so  bright  and  willing ;  and  moreover  we 
admired  the  spirit  which  had  sent  him  wander- 
ing from  his  home  in  order  that  he  might  earn 
money  for  the  support  of  his  grandfather. 

For  the  matter  of  that,  though,  there  was 
hardly  one  of  our  herders  who  did  not  every 
month  send  back  a  large  proportion  of  his  wages 
to  his  wife  or  his  parents  or,  perhaps,  to  the 
good  padre  to  be  expended  for  the  benefit  of 
some  needy  relative.     Nor  was  this  custom  con- 


48  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

fined  to  our  particular  set  of  herders :  all  the 
sheepmen  on  the  plains,  I  believe,  would  tell 
the  same  story.  A  regard  for  filial  duty,  in  fact, 
seems  to  be  natural  to  these  primitive  Mexicans, 
and  I  have  often  privately  thought  that  some 
of  us  "  superior  "  white  people  might  take  a  les- 
son from  them  with  advantage. 

The  little  Mexican's  proper  name,  as  I  have 
said,  was  Jose  ;  but  we  already  had  among  our 
herders  three  other  Joses — Jose  Quintano,  Jose 
Valdez  and  Jose  Mendoza — so,  to  avoid  con- 
fusion, this  youngster  became  known  by  the 
title  by  which  Stock  had  earlier  addressed 
him  :  Hidalgo  ;  an  arrangement  to  which  the 
boy  himself  made  no  objection. 

Little  Hidalgo,  therefore,  was  forthwith  in- 
stalled in  the  herders'  cabin  down  by  the 
corrals — a  low-roofed,  box-like  little  edifice, 
about  twelve  feet  by  twenty,  built  of  inch 
boards  lined  with  tar-paper,  and  furnished  with 
several  standard  bunks,  a  table  and  three  or 
four  stools.  He  and  Juan  Vigil  were  the  only 
occupants,  for  at  this  season  of  the  year  the 
flocks  and  their  herders  were  all  down  at  the 
southern  camps.  The  only  sheep  just  then 
about  the  home  place  were  the  herd  of  bucks — 


The  Boy  from  Obispo  49 

curly-horned  Merinos  ;  great  fellows  to  fight — 
and  the  little  bunch  of  invalids,  made  up  of 
odd  sheep  from  all  the  flocks,  which  for  one 
reason  or  another — a  damaged  foot,  a  bite  from  a 
coyote — were  unable  to  keep  up  with  the  others 
on  their  daily  promenade  over  the  plains,  and 
had  therefore  been  brought  to  the  home  place 
to  be  cared  for. 

There  was  one  other  sheep  on  the  place,  how- 
ever, which  deserves  special  mention,  for  the 
reason  that  he  had  made  for  himself  a  reputa- 
tion which  extended  for  fifty  miles  around. 
This  was  Uncle  Remus,  a  black,  one-horned 
wether — a  sheep  remarkable  for  the  fact  that  he 
was  not  afraid  to  stand  up  to  a  coyote  ;  the  only 
one  of  his  kind  I  ever  heard  of 

Uncle  Remus  had  been  left  an  orphan  at  the 
early  age  of  half  an  hour  and  had  been  brought 
up  on  the  bottle.  He  was  a  fine  young  lamb 
and  thrived  wonderfully  under  the  tender 
ministrations  of  his  nurse,  Juan  Vigil,  until  he 
grew  so  strong  and  enterprising  that  he  became 
a  nuisance  among  the  invalids  and  was  there- 
fore turned  out  by  himself  in  the  little  horse- 
pasture  adjoining  the  house.  Here  he  at  once 
picked  up  an  acquaintance  with  four  frolicsome 


50  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

puppies  with  whom  he  spent  many  a  merry 
hour.  The  pups  were  about  half  grown,  and  at 
first  they  lorded  it  over  Uncle  Remus  with  an 
air  of  natural  superiority  to  which  the  sheep 
humbly  submitted.  At  length,  however,  he 
seemed  to  think  that  he  had  been  long  enough 
the  butt  of  these  feather-brained  persecutors, 
and  decided  that  he  would  become  instead  the 
butter.  One  day,  when  the  puppies  insisted  on 
annoying  him  when  he  himself  was  anxious  to 
be  left  in  peace,  Uncle  Remus  suddenly  charged 
upon  them,  knocking  over  two  of  them  and 
sending  the  whole  band  flying  for  refuge  to  the 
haven  of  their  kennel.  Having  thus  discovered 
his  powers,  Uncle  Remus  thereafter  in  his  turn 
lorded  it  over  the  pups,  while  they  on  their  part 
behaved  towards  him  with  the  greatest  respect 
and  deference. 

One  efi^ect  of  this  little  victory  Avas  that  Uncle 
Remus  became  convinced  that  he  could  boss 
any  dog  that  lived.  He  did  not  molest  the 
puppies,  unless  they  became  too  obstreperous, 
allowing  them  many  liberties  for  the  sake  of 
old  times  ;  but  did  one  of  our  neighbors  come 
to  see  us,  accompanied  by  a  dog,  the  pugnacious 
sheep  would  instantly  charge  upon  the  intruder, 


The  Boy  from   Obispo  51 

and,  with  a  blow  in  his  ribs  from  his  cast-iron 
skull,  send  him  rolling  over  and  over  in  the 
grass.  The  dog,  taken  by  surprise — for  how 
could  he  anticipate  such  behavior  in  a  com- 
mon, every-day  sheep? — would  fly  yelping  to 
the  shelter  of  the  house  or  stable,  leaving  Uncle 
Kemus  standing  there  defiantly  stamping  his 
little  forefeet  and  feeling  more  than  ever 
assured  that  he  was  monarch  of  all  he 
surveyed. 

But  the  real  test  came  a  few  days  after 
Stock's  arrival ;  it  was  he  who  had  the  good 
fortune  to  witness  the  whole  affair  from  the 
top  of  a  neighboring  hill. 

A  coyote  slipped  into  the  pasture  and  ran 
quickly  towards  the  sheep,  thinking  to  make  a 
meal  of  him  there  and  then.  Uncle  Remus, 
not  knowing  a  coyote  from  a  dog,  advanced 
gaily  to  the  fray ;  seeing  which,  the  coyote, 
somewhat  taken  aback  by  such  unusual  con- 
duct, stopped  to  see  what  was  going  to  happen. 
He  was  not  long  left  in  doubt.  Uncle  Remus 
himself  stopped  about  twenty  feet  away  and 
stood  for  a  moment  stamping  his  feet  as  usual, 
working  up  his  temper,  and  then,  in  two  jumps, 
bang  !    he  came  against  the  astonished  coyote, 


52  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

knocking  him  over  backAvards.  Hardly  had 
the  marauder  scrambled  to  his  feet  when  an- 
other fearful  thump  rolled  him  over  again, 
breaking  two  of  his  ribs  and  driving  all  the 
breath  out  of  his  body.  Matters  were  becom- 
ing serious,  and  the  coyote  now  thought  only 
of  getting  away.  But  this  wise  resolution  came 
too  late ;  the  merciless  pounding  of  the  sheep 
continued  until  at  last  the  unfortunate  beast, 
with  half  his  bones  broken,  lay  dead  upon  the 
grass.  Uncle  Remus  had  accomplished  a  feat 
never  before  recorded  of  a  sheep  as  far  as  I 
know :  he  had  killed  a  coyote  single-handed  ! 

"  It  has  often  been  a  matter  of  wonder  to  me," 
said  my  father,  when  Stock  came  in  and  related 
this  incident  to  us,  ''that  sheep  do  not  more 
often  discover  their  own  fighting  powers.  It 
would  be  a  fine  thing  for  us  sheepmen  if  they 
did,  for  the  depredations  of  the  coyotes  is  one  of 
the  most  serious  and  constant  causes  of  loss.  If 
a  sheep  only  knew  it,  he  could  stand  off  a  coyote 
every  time— that  is  to  say,  a  full-grown  sheep 
could.  A  goat  will  do  so;  and  for  that  very 
reason  many  sheepmen  keep  one  or  two  goats  in 
each  flock.  The  bucks  will  do  so,  too,  now  and 
then.     But  sheep  in  general,  stupid  things,  seem 


The  Boy  from  Obispo  53 

to  be  bereft  of  their  senses  at  sight  of  a  coyote. 
A  bunch  of  a  couple  of  thousand  of  them  will 
allow  themselves  to  be  harried  at  will  by 
one  meagre  little  wolf;  whereas,  if  they  only 
knew  it,  they  could  pound  him  into  a  jelly  in 
ten  seconds." 

But  to  return  to  Uncle  Remus.  This  triumph 
over  the  coyote  so  increased  his  high  opinion  of 
himself  that  he  became  unbearable,  even  dan- 
gerous ;  for  he  took  to  charging  human  beings. 
It  may  seem  at  first  thought  that  a  sheep  could 
hardly  be  dangerous  to  a  man ;  but  when  it  is 
remembered  that  he  weighs  one  hundred  pounds 
or  more,  that  his  skull  is  like  a  lump  of  granite, 
and  that  his  muscular  legs  propel  him  forward 
like  a  stone  out  of  a  catapult,  it  will  be  under- 
stood that  he  might  easily  break  a  leg  or  a  rib  or 
two. 

We  had  about  decided  to  send  him  away, 
when,  a  day  or  two  after  Hidalgo's  arrival,  the 
sheep's  unruly  conduct  brought  matters  to  a 
climax.  The  boy  had  found  a  broken-legged 
chicken  and  was  on  his  knees  in  the  horse-corral 
putting  the  leg  in  splints,  while  Stock,  standing 
close  beside  him,  was  looking  on.  At  this 
moment  Uncle  Remus  sauntered  in,  and  unable 


54  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

to  resist  the  tempting  chance  he  forthwith 
charged  upon  Hidalgo.  The  little  Mexican 
might  have  been  badly  hurt,  he  might  even  have 
been  killed,  for  he  was  head-on  to  the  sheep, 
had  not  Stock  caught  sight  of  the  coming  thun- 
derbolt. With  a  shout  to  Hidalgo  to  look  out, 
he  seized  the  sheep  as  it  passed,  and  swinging  it 
round,  with  one  vigorous  heave  he  cast  it  head- 
long into  the  horse-pond,  whence  the  erstwhile 
valiant  Uncle  Remus  presently  emerged,  a  sorry 
and  bedraggled  spectacle,  with  all  the  fight 
washed  out  of  him. 

This  little  episode  settled  his  fate.  Next 
morning  Uncle  Remus  was  caught,  his  feet 
were  tied  together,  and  he  was  tumbled  into  the 
two-wheeled  cart  and  driven  down  to  one  of  the 
summer  camps,  where  he  was  turned  into  the 
wether  flock.  Here  he  at  once  assumed  the 
leadership  of  his  twenty-two  hundred  friends 
and  relations,  constituting  himself  guardian  of 
the  flock,  and  turning  to  good  account  his  fight- 
ing talent  by  worsting  every  coyote  that  was  un- 
wise enough  to  venture  within  his  reach. 


CHAPTER  IV 
The  Drive 

I  HAVE  spoken  several  times  of  the  Badger 
Springs  place.  It  lay  about  five  miles  north- 
east of  the  home  ranch,  and  as  the  ownership  of 
the  water  included  the  right  to  range  over  a  con- 
siderable tract  of  country,  its  acquirement 
formed  a  valuable  addition  to  my  father's  hold- 
ings. To  stock  this  place  he  had  purchased  two 
thousand  Mexican  ewes,  intending  to  grade 
them  up  to  fifteen-sixteenths  Merinos ;  a  cross- 
breed which  has  been  found  well  adapted  to 
sheep-life  on  the  plains.  The  Merino  is  a  hardy 
beast  and  is  valuable  for  his  wool,  which  is  a 
fine,  long,  silky  staple,  while  the  strain  of 
Mexican  blood  in  his  veins  gives  him  the  ^'  rust- 
ling "  qualities  which  enable  him  to  stand  all 
sorts  of  weather  and  to  pick  up  a  living  where 
other  sheep  would  starve. 

This  flock  of  sheep  had  been  purchased  from 
a    well-to-do     Mexican    sheepman,    the    Seiior 
Francisco  Trujillo,  who  lived  at  a  little  place 
55 


56  Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

called  El  Nido,  which,  as  its  name  indicates,  was 
perched  like  a  **  nest "  among  the  foothills  of  the 
Trinity  range,  some  distance  south  of  the  Obispo 
pass.  They  were  to  be  ready  for  delivery  on  the 
fifth  of  September,  and  when  the  appointed 
time  drew  near  my  father  sent  Stock  and  me  and 
little  Hidalgo  down  to  El  Nido  to  drive  them 
up. 

It  was  with  much  pleasure  we  set  off  one 
beautiful  morning  in  a  little  two-wheeled  cart. 
Stock  and  I  on  the  seat  and  Hidalgo  cocked  up 
on  the  *'  grub-box  "  behind,  driving  an  ancient 
and  reliable  pony,  whose  name.  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte, was  commonly  abbreviated  to  Bony,  in 
reference  to  his  very  knobby  appearance.  He 
was  no  beauty  to  look  at,  nor  was  he  a  speedy 
traveler,  for  he  was  old  and  somewhat  stiff,  but 
he  had  on  the  other  hand  two  or  three  valuable 
qualities  which  fitted  him  particularly  for  the 
task  on  hand.  Had  we  chosen  to  do  so,  we 
might  have  ridden  down  or  driven  a  pair  of 
good  horses  in  the  buckboard,  but  we  knew  that 
when  we  started  on  our  return  journey  with  the 
sheep  we  should  have  to  walk  the  whole  dis- 
tance, and  slowly  at  that,  and  we  preferred  not 
to  be  encumbered  with  horses  which  would  re- 


The   Drive  ^y 

quire  looking  after.  We  therefore  decided  to 
take  old  Bony,  whom,  as  we  knew  from  experi- 
ence, we  could  trust  to  stay  near  our  camp  at 
night  and  to  follow  the  flock  all  day  without 
guidance ;  thus  leaving  us  free  to  give  all  our 
attention  to  the  sheep. 

El  Nido  lay  across  the  border  in  New  Mexico. 
None  of  us  had  ever  been  down  there  before, 
and  all  we  knew  of  the  course  we  had  to  take 
was  its  general  direction.  We  did  know,  how- 
ever, that  about  half  way  down  we  should  have 
to  cross  the  San  Carlos,  a  notoriously  tricky 
stream,  which,  having  its  head  in  the  Trinity 
Mountains,  ran,  hugging  the  high  cliffs  of  the 
southern  mesa-land,  first  easterly  and  then 
southerly  to  join  the  Red  River.  This  stream 
had  a  wide  notoriety  for  its  unreliability ;  it 
would  be  probably  dry  or  thereabouts  at  this 
season  of  the  year,  but  on  the  other  hand  it 
might,  even  in  September,  hold  us  up  for  two  or 
three  days  with  high  water.  As  it  was  neces- 
sary that  we  be  promptly  on  hand  on  the  day 
specified,  we  decided  that  we  could  not  afford  to 
take  any  chances,  so,  instead  of  cutting  straight 
across  country  as  we  might  have  done,  we  de- 
termined instead  to  allow  ourselves  an  extra  day 


58  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

and  by  diverging  considerably  to  the  left — down 
stream — to  cross  by  the  toll-bridge. 

Having  plenty  of  time,  we  took  it  leisurely, 
and  about  noon  next  day  we  reached  the  San 
Carlos  which  we  found  on  this  occasion  to  be  a 
stream  of  most  decorous  and  mild-mannered  ap- 
pearance, for  there  was  no  more  than  a  trickle 
of  water  in  it.  It  was  evident,  though,  that  it 
did  sometimes  go  on  the  rampage,  for  we  noted 
heaps  of  drift-wood  and  piles  of  sand  at  least 
fifteen  feet  above  its  present  level. 

On  our  side,  the  plains  sloped  gently  down  to 
the  stream,  but  on  the  other  were  perpendicular 
cliffs  three  hundred  feet  high,  the  only  break  in 
which,  as  far  as  we  could  see,  was  the  deep  cleft 
by  which  the  road  ascended.  Having  crossed 
the  bridge,  therefore,  we  slowly  climbed  the  long 
hill,  until,  at  the  end  of  an  hour,  we  found  our- 
selves on  top  of  the  pinon-covered  mesa,  which 
stretched  in  a  long  slope  to  the  foothills  of  the 
range. 

In  a  sheltered  nook  among  the  trees  we  en- 
camped that  night,  and  early  next  morning 
started  again.  Towards  sunset  the  road  turned 
westward  up  a  long,  narrow  valley  at  the  head 
of  which  we   presently  espied   several   square, 


The  Drive  59 

whitewashed  buildings.  This  was  the  Trujillo 
place,  and  in  another  hour  we  found  ourselves 
shaking  hands  with  Don  Francisco  himself. 

Seiior  Trujillo  was  a  dried-up  little  man, 
whose  wrinkled  brown  face  was  half  hidden  by 
a  fierce-looking  white  moustache ;  his  dress, 
which  was  trim  and  well-fitting,  included  a  big, 
high-crowned,  silver-braided  sombrero  and  enor- 
mous spurs  on  his  neat  little  boots — for  like  all 
Mexicans  of  the  better  class,  and  nearly  all 
Mexicans  of  any  class,  he  had  small  and  well- 
shaped  feet.  With  true  Spanish  hospitality  he 
bade  us  welcome,  placing  at  our  disposal  his 
house  and  all  that  was  his. 

While  old  Bony  went  off  to  the  stable  in 
charge  of  Hidalgo  and  one  of  the  peons,  we  our- 
selves were  ushered  into  a  big  earth-roofed  adobe 
room,  where  in  a  few  minutes  we  all  sat  down 
to  a  welcome  supper  of  which  the  chief  feature 
was  an  immense  dish  of  chile-con-carne — a  mut- 
ton stew  made  so  fearfully  hot  with  red  peppers 
that  it  brought  the  tears  to  our  eyes  when  we 
tried  to  eat  it. 

The  meal  over,  we  adjourned  to  another  big 
room,  when,  after  a  few  minutes  of  silence,  the 
little  gentleman  turned  to  me  and  said ; 


6o  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"  Which  way  do  you  propose  to  return,  seiior, 
by  the  bridge  or  by  the  ford  ?  " 

"  By  the  bridge,"  I  replied.  "  We  are  not 
familiar  with  this  part  of  the  country,  and  were 
not  even  aware  that  there  was  a  ford." 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is  what  is  called  the  Island 
ford ;  it  is  not  much  used  now,  but  before  the 
bridge  was  built  it  was  the  customary  crossing 
place.  It  lies  due  north  from  here  and  by  going 
that  way  you  would  save  about  twenty  miles  of 
'drive  '  and  forty  dollars  in  tolls  ;  for  they  will 
charge  you  two  cents  a  head  for  the  sheep  if  you 
go  by  the  bridge." 

"  That's  quite  an  item  by  itself,"  remarked 
Stock.  "  Do  you  think  the  ford  will  be  passable 
for  sheep,  senor?" 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  Trujillo.  "  The  stream 
is  very  low  just  now  and  there  is  probably  not 
three  inches  of  water  at  the  ford.  It  is  to  be 
remembered,  of  course,  that  the  San  Carlos  is 
an  untrustworthy  stream,  but  at  this  time  of 
year  floods  are  hardly  to  be  expected,  and  I 
think  you  would  be  perfectly  safe  to  go  that 
way.  It  is  true,  I  have  not  been  there  myself 
for  a  long  time,  and  therefore  cannot  speak 
with  certainty  as   to   the  present  condition  of 


The  Drive  6 1 

the  ford,  but  I  feel  sure  it  would  be  a  safe  ven- 
ture." 

"  What  do  you  think,  Jamie?  "  asked  Stock. 

''  I  think  it  is  worth  trying,"  I  replied  ;  "  for 
even  if  we  should  find  too  much  water,  we  could 
still  turn  eastward  and  go  by  the  bridge." 

"  Yes ;  and  if  we  can  cross,  it  will  be  a  great 
saving.     I  vote  we  try  it,  anyhow." 

"  Very  well,  we  will.  Which  way  do  we  go, 
senor? " 

"  About  three  miles  below  here,"  replied  our 
host,  "  you  will  find  an  old  road  turning  off  to 
the  left — there  is  a  pile  of  stones  and  a  wooden 
cross  in  the  fork  of  the  roads  ;  you  cannot  miss 
it.  Take  the  left  hand  road  ;  it  is  dim  from 
disuse,  but  it  is  still  easily  followed,  and  it  Avill 
take  you  straight  to  the  ford.  The  grass  is  good 
and  the  traveling  will  be  pleasant,  for  the  mesa 
is  well  covered  with  pinons  and  cedars  right  up 
to  the  edge  of  the  bluff"  where  you  go  down  to 
the  San  Carlos." 

"  Thank  you,  senor.  Then  we'll  go  by  the  ford." 

The  sheep  were  all  ready  for  us  in  the  morn- 
ing— a  scraggy-looking  lot  to  our  eyes,  accus- 
tomed to  the  close-coated,  flat-backed  Merinos — 
but  they  appeared  to  be  well  grown  and  in  good 


62  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

condition.  It  took  us  half  an  hour  to  run  them 
through  the  chute  and  count  them  out,  when, 
the  tally  of  two  thousand  having  been  found  to 
be  correct,  we  bade  our  hospitable  host  '*  Good- 
bye" and  started  on  our  return  journey. 

We  found  the  wooden  cross  in  due  time,  and 
taking  the  left  hand  road  went  slowl}^  along. 
The  sheep  traveled  freely,  feeding  as  the}^  went, 
for  the  grass  was  good,  and  though  the  trees 
were  pretty  thick  at  times  there  Avere  frequent 
large  open  spaces  and  on  the  whole  we  had  little 
difficulty    in    keeping   an  eye  on  our  charges. 

The  flock  went  forward  spread  out  pretty 
widely  on  both  sides  of  the  road,  followed  by 
the  four  herders — counting  old  Bony  as  one. 
The  old  pony,  indeed,  seemed  perfectly  to  under- 
stand the  part  he  was  expected  to  play,  though 
he  was  perhaps  a  little  too  zealous  and  was  apt 
to  push  his  charges  a  trifle  too  fast.  Every  now 
and  then  he  would  make  a  brief  excursion  from 
the  road  for  the  express  purpose  of  biting  one 
of  the  sheep  which  in  his  opinion  was  lagging 
too  far  behind  the  others,  seemingly  regarding 
it  as  an  immense  joke  if  he  could  succeed  in 
slipping  up  on  some  unsuspecting  sheep  and 
nipping  a  mouthful  of  wool  out  of  its  back.     So 


The  Drive  63 

eager  was  he,  indeed,  that  on  one  occasion  he 
forgot  the  cart  he  was  drawing  and  jammed  it 
immovably  between  two  trees,  so  that  Stock  had 
to  return  to  his  assistance  and  chop  down  one  of 
the  trees  before  he  could  be  extricated. 

Bony's  assistance  was,  in  fact,  so  effective  that, 
after  three  or  four  hours,  when  the  sheep  had 
begun  to  learn  that  they  were  expected  to  travel 
straight  forward  and  not  diverge  too  far  from 
the  road,  one  of  us,  generally  Stock,  was  set  free 
to  go  on  in  advance  with  the  shotgun  ;  by  which 
course  we  secured  half-a-dozen  fat  young  grouse  ; 
for  a  recent  snowfall  on  the  range  had  already 
sent  them  down  from  the  high  places. 

We  had  brought  the  gun  with  us,  partly  in 
the  hope  that  we  might  have  such  occasions  to 
use  it,  but  more  particularly  as  a  means  of  de- 
fense against  range  cattle  ;  for  to  a  man  on  foot 
the  range  steer  is  by  far  the  most  dangerous  of 
all  the  wild  animals  that  inhabit  the  foothills. 
Every  other  beast,  coyote,  wolf,  bear,  mountain- 
lion,  will  run  away  from  a  man,  but  the  range 
steer  seems  to  be  consumed  by  an  insatiable 
curiosity  and  the  sight  of  a  pedestrian  will  bring 
him  galloping  up  to  investigate  the  unfamiliar 
biped.     For  though  a  man  on  horseback  is  a 


64  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

familiar  sight  to  him  and  one  upon  which  he 
will  bestow  no  more  than  a  passing  glance,  a 
man  on  foot  is  a  mysterious  phenomenon  which 
must  be  at  once  inquired  into.  At  a  distance 
of  twenty  or  thirty  yards  the  steer  will  stand  for 
a  time,  shaking  his  head  in  a  threatening  man- 
ner, and  then,  as  likely  as  not,  he  will  conclude 
to  come  and  poke  up  the  strange  object  with  his 
horns.  In  such  a  case  a  shotgun  is  a  very  use- 
ful instrument  with  which  to  persuade  him  to 
change  his  mind. 

But  neither  shotgun  nor  rifle  even  will  al- 
ways prove  effective.  I  have  heard  of  one  in- 
stance where  a  man  was  found  dead  upon  the 
plains,  his  empty  Winchester  beside  him  and 
fourteen  dead  steers  around  him.  He  had  stood 
them  off  until  his  cartridges  were  exhausted, 
when  the  remaining  animals  had  killed  him. 

Our  drive  for  that  day  ended  early  in  the 
afternoon,  for  we  did  not  wish  to  push  the  sheep 
too  hard  at  first,  when,  having  reached  a  large 
grassy  opening  in  the  trees  across  which  ran  a 
little  stream  of  water,  we  allowed  the  flock  to 
spread  out  widely  to  feed  until  sunset.  Then, 
while  Stock  chopped  wood  and  I  got  things 
ready  for  supper,  Hidalgo  went  off  in  charge  of 


The  Drive  65 

the  sheep,  and  pretty  soon  we  heard  his  mouth- 
organ  tootling  away  in  the  distance. 

Like  so  many  others  of  the  Mexican  herders, 
Hidalgo  was  addicted  to  making  music  with  a 
mouth-organ.  That  is  to  say,  he  thought  it  was 
music,  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  the  youngster  was  an  infamous 
performer,  the  gusty,  wheezy  screeching  of  his 
instrument  inflicting  tortures  on  his  suffering 
audience.  Even  his  uncritical  compatriots  could 
not  stand  it,  and  later  in  the  year,  when  the 
regular  herders  had  come  up  with  their  flocks  to 
the  home  place  they  would  always  turn  Hidalgo 
out  of  the  cabin  when  a  musical  fit  possessed 
him.  The  only  living  creatures  which  appeared 
to  appreciate  his  genius  were  the  sheep.  Many 
a  time,  on  going  the  rounds  after  supper,  I 
have  found  Hidalgo  perched  on  the  corral  fence, 
playing  the  flock  to  sleep ;  for  upon  the  sheep 
his  music  seemed  to  have  a  soothing  effect  in 
spite  of  false  notes  and  unpremeditated  flourishes. 
It  may  have  been,  though,  that,  knowing 
there  was  no  other  way  of  escape,  they  took 
refuge  in  slumber.  One  of  them,  at  least,  showed 
a  wide-awake  enjoyment  of  the  performance. 
This  was  Uncle  Remus,  who,  as  soon  as  Hidalgo 


66  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

appeared,  would  take  his  stand  before  him  and  re- 
main there  listening  with  all  his  ears.  It  occurred 
to  me  that  Uncle  Remus  might  possibly  be  har- 
boring in  his  mind  a  hope  that  Hidalgo  would 
descend  on  his  side  of  the  fence  and  thus  give  him 
a  chance  to  knock  the  musician  and  his  music 
into  the  middle  of  next  week.  But  Hidalgo  him- 
self had  no  such  qualms  ;  he  accepted  with  com- 
placency the  flattering  appreciation  of  his 
powers,  and  quite  dismissed  any  lingering  ani- 
mosity he  might  have  felt  towards  the  fighting 
wether  for  his  former  attempt  at  assault  and  bat- 
tery. 

As  soon  as  it  became  dusk  the  sheep  were 
gathered  in  a  bunch  and  for  half  an  hour  we  all 
three  walked  round  and  round  them — Hidalgo 
on  his  mouth-organ  playing  some  tune  which, 
as  far  as  we  could  tell,  might  have  been  one  of 
his  own  composing — by  which  time  they  had  all 
settled  down  comfortably  for  the  night. 

The  little  Mexican  and  I  then  went  off  to  bed, 
leaving  Stock  to  stand  guard  till  midnight ;  the 
arrangement  being  that  the  boy  should  then  go 
on  till  daylight,  while  I  was  to  take  first  watch 
on  the  night  following. 

Nothing  occurred  to  disturb  us,  and  early  next 


The  Drive  67 

morning  we  started  again,  traveling  slowly  all 
day,  until,  about  three  in  the  afternoon,  we 
reached  the  point  where  we  had  to  go  down 
from  the  high  mesa-land  to  the  San  Carlos,  be- 
yond which  the  rolling  plain  spread  unbroken 
to  the  Spring  Creek  ranch.  The  mesa  ended  ab- 
ruptly in  a  high  cliff  which  extended  for  miles 
east  and  west,  the  only  means  of  descent  at  this 
point  being  a  narrow,  steep  gully  down  which 
we  went,  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  dust  raised 
by  the  eight  thousand  pairs  of  sharp-pointed 
hoofs. 

As  we  neared  the  bottom,  the  whole  flock, 
suddenly  and  with  one  accord,  rushed  down  the 
gully,  ran  about  a  hundred  j^ards  out  into  the 
open,  and  there  stopped,  bunched  and  faced 
about. 

When  they  started  on  their  brief  stampede  we 
merely  supposed  that  the  sheep  had  smelt  water 
and  were  running  forward  to  get  a  drink,  but 
their  action  in  bunching  and  looking  back 
showed  that  they  had  seen  or  smelt  something 
to  alarm  them.  We  looked  about,  but  there  w\as 
too  much  dust  still  hanging  in  the  arroyo  for  us 
to  see  anything  distinctly,  so,  supposing  that  the 
disturbance  had  been  caused  by  a  vagrant  co- 


68  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

yote,  we  thought  no  more  of  it,  but  driving  the 
sheep  up  to  where  there  grew  a  few  trees  and 
some  rather  scanty  grass  we  walked  forward  to 
look  at  the  ford. 

To  our  great  disappointment  we  found  about 
eighteen  inches  of  muddy  water  coursing  swiftly 
down  the  creek  bed.  There  was  no  crossing 
that  day  ;  but  knowing  the  reputation  of  the 
San  Carlos  for  variability  we  prepared  to  camp 
where  we  were,  feeling  pretty  sure  that  the  rise 
of  the  creek  was  due  to  a  passing  storm  up  in 
the  mountains,  and  that  there  was  an  excellent 
chance  that  the  water  would  have  subsided  by 
morning. 

''  Jamie,"  said  Stock,  "  why  do  you  suppose 
this  is  called  the  '  Island  '  ford  ?  There's  no 
island  here." 

"  Why,"  I  replied,  "  I  expect  our  camping- 
ground  here  is  an  island  sometimes.  I  think  it 
is  most  likely  that  in  very  high  water  the  stream 
runs  down  this  channel  and  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluffs  as  well.  Let  us  go  up-stream  a  little  way 
and  take  a  look." 

I  was  right.  A  short  distance  up-stream  the 
creek,  issuing  from  a  little  canon,  made  a  slight 
bend  northward  and  about  a  mile  below  came 


The   Drive  69 

back  again  to  the  line  of  bluffs.  It  was  evident, 
however,  that  the  original  creek-bed  lay  at  the 
foot  of  the  cliff,  but  by  some  freak  the  stream 
had  piled  up  a  bar  of  sand  across  its  mouth, 
thus  sending  the  water  off  to  the  left.  More- 
over, it  was  also  evident  from  the  drift-wood 
scattered  along  its  course  that  the  stream  some- 
times ran  both  ways  at  once,  converting  our 
camping-ground  into  a  temporary  island. 

''  Stock,"  said  I, ''  I  don't  exactly  like  this.  If 
it  should  happen  to  set  in  for  a  rainy  spell  in 
the  mountains — it  isn't  very  likely,  I  know,  at 
this  time  of  year — but  if  it  should  rain  hard 
enough  to  send  the  water  down  both  channels 
at  once  we  might  be  corraled  here  for  a  week  or 
more ;  which  would  be  pretty  awkward,  for  there 
is  not  grass  enough  on  this  '  island '  to  last  more 
than  a  couple  of  days.  I  think,  if  we  find  in 
the  morning  that  the  stream  has  not  gone 
down,  or  at  least  is  not  going  down,  we  had 
better  go  back  up  the  gully  and  make  for  the 
bridge." 

Stock  nodded.  "  I  think  you're  right,  Jamie. 
I  don't  half  like  going  back  ;  but  this  is  certainly 
a  rather  risky  place  for  sheep.  It  is  even  possible 
that  at  times  this  '  island  '  is  entirely  covered ; 


JO  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

though  certainly  I  don't  see  any  signs  of  such  a 
thing." 

"  No,"  I  replied.  "  But  you  never  can  trust 
the  creeks  in  this  part  of  the  country,  they  are 
so  sudden  and  so  violent.  We'll  get  out  again  in 
the  morning  I  think  unless  the  stream  is  plainly 
going  down." 

We  allowed  the  sheep  to  feed  pretty  late  that 
evening,  for  the  grass  being  rather  scarce  and 
scattered  it  took  them  longer  than  usual  to  get 
all  they  wanted,  and  about  dusk  I  went  on 
guard,  taking  the  shotgun  with  me,  while  the 
other  two  went  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  V 
A  Lion  in  the  Path 

I  NOTICED  when  I  took  the  flock  that  the 
sheep  seemed  somewhat  fidgety.  There  was 
scarcely  any  wind  blowing,  but  every  now  and 
then  a  pufF  would  come  from  the  direction  of  the 
gully,  upon  which  occasions  those  sheep  which 
were  still  standing  up  would  turn  and  look  in 
that  direction,  while  those  lying  down,  or  some 
of  them,  would  get  up,  move  a  few  paces,  stare 
in  the  same  direction,  and  then  lie  down  again. 
Evidently  the  wind  brought  with  it  some  scent 
the  sheep  did  not  like,  possibly  the  same  scent 
which  had  caused  them  to  bolt  out  of  the  gully 
earlier  in  the  day.  As  it  became  dark,  however, 
the  puffs  of  wind  ceased  and  the  sheep  settled 
down  ;  everj^thing  remained  quiet,  and  I  had 
kept  my  solitary  vigil,  walking  round  and  round 
the  flock  until  nearly  midnight,  when  suddenly 
every  sheep  sprang  to  its  feet  and  made  a  rush 
towards  me.  I  ran  quickly  round  to  the  opposite 
71 


72  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

side  of  the  flock,  but,  though  the  sheep  were 
plainly  apprehensive,  for  they  all  stood  huddled 
close  together  facing  in  the  direction  of  the  gully, 
I  could  see  nothing.  The  light  was  very  dim,  for 
though  there  was  half  a  moon  it  was  obscured 
by  a  thin  veil  of  clouds.  What  it  was  that  had 
alarmed  the  flock  I  could  not  imagine,  unless  it 
were  a  coyote,  and  as  the  sheep  presently  settled 
down  again  I  continued  my  walk,  keeping  my 
ears  open,  however,  for  any  unusual  sounds. 

For  about  half  an  hour  everything  remained 
quiet,  when  the  same  thing  happened  once 
more.  Again  the  sheep  sprang  up  and  made  a 
rush  towards  me,  and  again  I  ran  round  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  flock — the  side  towards  the 
bluffs.  There  for  a  minute  or  two  I  stood  still, 
peering  in  the  direction  in  which  the  sheep  were 
facing,  and  presently  I  thought  I  saw  something 
crouching  among  the  grass.  Advancing  cau- 
tiously towards  it  I  w^as  halted  by  a  deep  growl 
which  sent  my  heart  into  my  mouth.  Without 
consideration  of  consequences,  I  clapped  the  gun 
to  my  shoulder  and  pulled  the  trigger.  A  fear- 
ful yell  followed  the  shot — such  a  sound  as  a  cat 
will  make  if  you  accidentally  tread  upon  her 
tail,  only  a  hundred  times  as  loud — but  when 


THE    LITTLE    MEXICAN    WAVING    ABOVE    HIS    HEAD    A    FLAMING    STICK' 


A  Lion  in  the  Path  73 

the  smoke  blew  aside  I  saw  that  the  animal, 
whatever  it  was,  was  gone. 

The  shot,  of  course,  awakened  both  my  com- 
panions, and  I  heard  Stock's  voice  shouting, 
"  Where  are  you,  Jamie  ?  " 

"  Over  here,"  I  cried  in  reply ;  upon  which 
they  both  came  running,  the  little  Mexican  wav- 
ing above  his  head  a  flaming  stick  which  he  had 
snatched  out  of  the  fire. 

"  What  did  you  shoot  at?  "  asked  the  former, 
as  soon  as  they  had  joined  me. 

''I  don't  know,  but " 

At  that  moment,  as  though  by  way  of  an- 
swer to  Stock's  question,  there  broke  out  from 
the  direction  of  the  gully  a  most  fearful  scream- 
ing ;  I  had  never  heard  such  a  sound  before ;  it 
made  me  shiver.  It  was  like  what  I  should 
imagine  the  screaming  of  a  crazy  woman 
might  be. 

"  What  on  earth  is  it?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  It  is  mountain-lions,  senor,"  replied  the 
little  Mexican ;  ''I  have  heered  them  many 
times  in  the  mountains.  There  is  three-four 
of  them  ;  but  they  are  fearful  beasts " — he 
meant  cowardly — "they  will  not  hurt  us.  I 
think  they  have  stole   one   sheep.     Wait  you 


74  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

one  little  minute,  I  make  more  bright  the  fire 
and  they  shall  come  back  no  more." 

Away  he  ran,  and  soon  a  big  crackling  fire 
lighted  up  the  whole  scene — the  trembling 
sheep  all  crowded  close  together ;  old  Bony 
with  his  head  up  and  his  ears  cocked ;  the 
little  Mexican  running  to  and  fro,  throwing 
more  wood  upon  the  fire ;  the  trunks  of  the 
surrounding  cottonwood  trees,  coming  and  go- 
ing in  the  fitful  light ;  and  in  the  distance  the 
long,  dim  line  of  sandstone  cliffs. 

The  blazing  fire  seemed  to  have  the  effect 
desired  ;  we  were  disturbed  no  more ;  and  after 
walking  up  and  down  with  Stock  for  an  hour 
or  so,  seeing  that  the  sheep  had  all  lain  down 
once  more,  I  left  him  to  finish  out  the  night  by 
himself 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  Jamie,"  said  he,  as  I 
walked  off  towards  our  camp.  "  The  sooner 
we're  out  of  this  place  the  better.  These  '  lions ' 
may  be  '  fearful  beasts '  or  they  may  not,  but  as 
far  as  I'm  concerned,  I  don't  at  all  admire  the 
notion  of  standing  guard  here  and  having  one 
of  them  slip  up  on  me  in  the  dark  and  jump 
upon  my  back." 

"  Nor  I,"   I   replied,  involuntarily   humping 


A  Lion  in  the  Path  75 

my  shoulders  at  the  thought.  '*  We  will  cer- 
tainly get  out  to-morrow,  one  way  or  the  other." 

This  was  an  excellent  resolution,  but  we  found 
that  there  are  occasions  when  it  is  one  thing  to 
make  a  resolution  and  quite  another  thing  to 
carry  it  out. 

With  the  coming  of  daylight  things  assumed 
a  more  cheerful  aspect — as  they  usually  do ;  a 
good  hot  breakfast,  too,  was  a  great  help ;  and 
more  than  all,  an  examination  of  the  creek, 
which  we  made  the  very  first  thing,  showed 
that  it  was  going  down.  It  is  true  that  it  was 
actually  higher  than  it  had  been  the  day  be- 
fore, but  from  the  position  of  the  bits  of  drift- 
wood, still  wet,  which  were  left  along  the  bank, 
we  felt  sure  that  the  water  was  receding.  Mark- 
ing its  position  by  means  of  two  or  three  sticks 
stuck  into  the  sand  at  the  margin  of  the  water, 
we  went  back  to  camp  for  breakfast,  and  on  re- 
turning to  the  stream  after  that  meal  we  had 
the  satisfaction  of  finding  that  the  water  had 
retired  from  them  six  or  seven  inches. 

•'  Good  !  "  exclaimed  Stock.  "  If  it  keeps 
that  up  we  ought  to  be  able  to  get  across  about 
noon.  What  do  you  think,  Jamie,  shall  we 
wait?" 


jt  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"  Yes,  I  certainly  think  so,"  I  replied.  "  Even 
if  we  wait  till  two  o'clock  and  then  find  we 
can't  cross,  it  will  give  us  plenty  of  time  to 
drive  the  flock  up  the  gully  and  make  camp 
before  dark." 

"  All  right,  then  :  if  we  can't  begin  to  cross 
at  two  o'clock  we'll  go  the  other  way  and  start 
for  the  bridge.  I  shall  be  sorry  if  we  have  to 
do  so,  though:  here  we  are,  a  short  two  days 
from  home,  whereas,  if  we  have  to  go  by  the 
bridge  it  will  be  three  days  or  more.  Still  if 
we  must,  we  must ;  so  we  may  as  well  make  the 
best  of  it.  I  think  we  shall  get  across,  though, 
for,  see,  the  water  has  gone  down  another  two 
inches  while  we  have  been  standing  here." 

Hidalgo  had  taken  charge  of  the  sheep  while 
this  discussion  was  going  on,  and  at  this  moment 
we  heard  him  calling  to  us. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Stock,  as  we  walked  up 
to  where  he  was  standing. 

The  boy  pointed  to  an  object  lying  on  the 
ground  a  few  yards  away — a  dead  sheep.  It 
had  been  dragged  some  distance,  and  doubtless 
the  lion  that  had  killed  it  was  the  one  I  had 
fired  at  during  the  night.  The  beast,  with  its 
feline  ability  to  see  in  the  dark,  had  presumably 


A  Lion  in  the  Path  ^'J 

watched  until  I  had  gone  round  to  the  far  side 
of  the  flock,  and  then,  springing  upon  its 
victim,  had  broken  its  neck  with  one  blow  of 
its  paw.  No  wonder  the  other  sheep  had  rushed 
from  the  spot. 

But  there  had  been  two  ''  rushes  "  during  the 
night,  and  the  question  was,  had  we  lost  any 
more  sheep  ?  This  question  was  soon  settled,  for 
not  far  away  we  found  a  mark  on  the  ground 
where  a  heavy  body  had  been  dragged  along, 
and  following  this  trail  to  the  mouth  of  the 
gully,  we  there  came  upon  a  sheep's  skull  and 
much  wool  scattered  about. 

Moreover,  on  looking  around,  we  made  a  new 
discovery  which  the  cloud  of  dust  had  concealed 
from  us  when  we  drove  the  flock  down  the 
arroyo  the  day  before.  The  face  of  the  sand- 
stone cliff'  on  one  side  was  pitted  with  many 
caves,  little  and  big,  and  doubtless  the  sheep- 
stealers  were  at  that  moment  ensconced  in  some 
of  them.  We  discussed  the  possibility  of  smoking 
them  out,  but  that  seemed  to  be  hopeless  :  there 
were  too  many  holes,  for  one  thing ;  they  were 
high  up,  and  to  carry  wood  up  to  them  would 
be  a  difficult  and  tedious  task  ;  what  wind  there 
was,  too,  blew  in  the  wrong  direction.     Besides 


yS  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

all  this,  we  were  tolerably  sure  that  there  were 
at  least  two  lions — for  all  we  knew  there  might 
be  several  more — and  if  we  did  succeed  in  routing 
them  out,  and  if,  again,  in  spite  of  their  notorious 
cowardliness,  they  should  take  it  into  their  heads 
to  attack  us,  it  would  be,  as  Stock  remarked,  "  a 
pretty  risky  job  to  fight  a  Avhole  flock  of  lions 
with  only  one  shotgun." 

"  That's  true,"  said  I.  "  And  at  the  best  we 
could  not  expect  to  do  more  than  wound  one  or 
two  of  them;  and  a  wounded  lion  is  not  quite  so 
harmless  as  people  seem  to  think.  I  have  heard 
of  one,  at  any  rate,  which  besieged  a  man  in  his 
cabin  all  night  long  and  did  his  very  best  to 
break  in.  If  I  had  known  that  it  was  a  lion  that 
confronted  me  in  the  dark  last  night  I  should 
have  thought  twice  before  I  fired  at  him." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Stock,  "  I  vote  we  let  them 
off  this  time.  We  shall  be  three  or  four  miles 
away  before  dark,  and  it  is  not  likely  they  will 
trouble  us  any  more." 

To  this  we  agreed,  and  returning  to  camp,  we 
waited  impatiently  for  the  water  to  go  down. 
By  noontime  it  had  so  far  receded  that  we  had 
great  hopes  of  being  able  to  cross  in  a  couple  of 
hours,  and  after  dinner  we  got  the  sheep  to- 


A  Lion  in  the  Path  79 

gether  in  readiness  to  attempt  the  passage. 
What  was  our  disappointment  therefore  when, 
on  going  down  for  a  last  look,  we  found  that 
that  tricky  stream  had  risen  again,  and  not  only 
so,  but  was  increasing  in  volume  with  much 
greater  rapidity  than  it  had  subsided. 

"  Well,  that  settles  it,"  I  exclaimed  in  disgust. 
"There's  no  getting  over  to-day.  We  may  as 
well  start  for  the  bridge  at  once.  I'm  sorry  we 
ever  came  this  way.  We've  lost  a  whole  day 
already." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Stock.  "  It's  a  disappoint- 
ment, of  course,  but  we  did  our  best,  and  there's 
no  great  harm  done.  Come  !  Let's  lose  no  more 
time ;  let  us  start  for  the  bridge  at  once." 

"All  right,"  said  I,  brightening  up  under 
my  companion's  cheerful  influence.  "  Turn  the 
sheep,  Hidalgo,"  I  shouted  to  the  little  Mexican, 
who  was  standing  on  the  far  side  of  the  flock, 
waiting  for  the  word  to  advance;  "  we've  got  to 
go  the  other  way." 

We  started  at  once,  and  drove  the  flock  across 
the  "  island  "  to  the  mouth  of  the  gully  ;  but 
there  we  met  with  an  unexpected  check.  The 
moment  the  sheep  reached  the  spot  where  the 
wool  was  scattered  about  they  stopped,  refusing 


8o  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

to  budge.  The  scent  of  the  lions  was  doubtless 
strong  there,  and  all  our  shouting  and  "  boosting," 
failed  to  move  the  flock  a  single  step  forward. 
According  to  their  custom  when  they  have  made 
up  their  minds  not  to  move,  the  sheep  "  ringed  "  ; 
that  is  to  say,  those  in  the  centre  of  the  bunch 
stood  passive  and  inert,  while  those  in  the  rear 
when  compelled  to  make  a  move  merely  ran 
round  the  bunch  to  the  rear  again.  Time  after 
time  we  broke  up  the  ring,  only  to  have  the 
obstinate  creatures  run  back  and  form  another. 
At  last,  after  more  than  an  hour  of  this  work, 
I  proposed  to  build  a  fire  on  the  objectionable 
spot  and  see  if  we  could  not  burn  out  the  scent. 

A  fire  was  soon  made,  and  when,  in  the  course 
of  half  an  hour  or  so,  it  had  died  down  again, 
the  sheep  were  driven  forward  once  more.  They 
were  more  than  half  disposed  to  balk  again,  but 
at  last,  after  much  urging,  one  ewe,  though 
evidently  still  very  suspicious,  after  several  false 
starts  made  a  bolt  for  it,  when,  according  to 
their  well-known  habit,  all  the  rest  immediately 
rushed  forward  and  the  dreaded  spot  was  passed. 

So  far,  so  good.  A  hundred  yards  farther  up, 
however,  they  stopped  again  ;  nor  was  it  sur- 
prising, for  here  the  scent  of  the  lions  was  so 


A  Lion  in  the  Path  8i 

strong  we  could  smell  it  ourselves.  Our  efforts 
to  move  the  flock  were  vain.  Again  and  again 
we  pushed  our  way  through  the  ring,  only  to 
have  the  sheep  break  back  on  us  every  time. 
Every  device  we  could  think  of  we  tried,  but  all 
in  vain  :  the  sheep  refused  to  advance. 

At  last  Hidalgo  and  I,  leaving  Stock  to  hold 
the  flock,  went  up  the  gully,  and  collecting  a 
large  quantity  of  wood,  built  several  small  fires 
along  the  sides  of  the  arroyo,  hoping  that  the 
smoke  would  so  disguise  the  scent  that  the  sheep 
would  not  notice  it.  The  wind  blew  the  smoke 
down  the  draw  straight  into  their  faces,  and  it 
was  nip  and  tuck  whether  Stock  would  be  able 
to  prevent  the  sheep  from  making  a  bolt  for  it ; 
but  the  gully  was  narrow  just  there,  and  he  suc- 
ceeded in  holding  them  until  the  smoke  had 
thinned  down  to  a  haze,  when  we  made  another 
attempt  to  get  them  forward. 

It  really  looked  as  though  we  were  going  to 
succeed  this  time,  for  we  got  the  sheep  started, 
and  even  progressed  a  hundred  yards,  but  just 
as  we  were  beginning  to  congratulate  ourselves 
on  the  success  of  our  artifice  there  broke  out 
once  more  from  some  invisible  point  that  same 
horrible  screaming  we  had  heard  in  the  night. 


82  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

This  was  too  much  for  the  nerves  of  the  already 
harassed  sheep.  With  one  accord  the  entire 
flock  turned  and  bolted  down  the  arroyo,  carry- 
ing us  with  them.  In  one  minute  our  whole 
afternoon's  work  was  undone. 

This  work  had  taken  us  a  long  time  and  it  was 
now  too  late  to  begin  all  over  again,  for  even  if 
we  should  succeed  in  getting  the  flock  up  the 
arroyo,  we  had  still  to  find  a  good  place  to  hold 
them  during  the  night.  We  therefore  made  our 
camp  once  more  in  the  old  place,  and  by  way  of 
precaution  we  gathered  material  for  four  large 
fires  to  keep  the  lions  at  a  distance ;  our  inten- 
tion being  to  bring  the  flock  close  up  to  our 
camp  among  the  trees  and  to  keep  a  good  big  fire 
going  on  four  sides  of  them. 

Our  situation,  though,  was  pretty  awkward. 
We  were  virtually  prisoners.  On  one  side  of  us 
was  a  stream  which  the  sheep  could  not  pass  and 
on  the  other  a  gully  which  they  would  not  pass. 
Yet,  pass  they  must,  the  one  or  the  other,  for 
there  was  no  other  way  out. 

"  We'll  try  the  arroyo  again  to-morrow,  of 
course,"  said  Stock,  as  we  sat  at  supper,  "  unless 
by  good  luck  the  stream  should  have  gone  down 
meanwhile,  and  I  think  our  best  way  will  be  to 


A   Lion  in  the   Path  83 

make  a  big  smoke  there  the  very  first  thing  so 
that  the  sheep  won't  begin  by  getting  a  scent  of 
the  lions.     If  they  won't  go,  why  then " 

''  Well,  what  then  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Why,"  replied  my  companion,  thoughtfully 
rubbing  his  chin,  "  the  only  other  way  I  see  is 
to  load  them  into  the  cart  and  ferry  them  over 
the  stream  piecemeal.  The  cart  would  hold 
eight  or  nine,  I  could  carry  two  and  you  could 
carry  one,  and  in  that  way  we  could  get  them 
across  in  course  of  time." 

"  Yes,  in  course  of  time  we  could,"  I  replied, 
"  but  I'm  afraid  it  would  be  a  precious  long 
course  of  time.  Suppose  we  could  take  over  a 
dozen  at  a  trip  :  to  catch  the  sheep,  load  them, 
carry  them  over  and  come  back,  would  take  us 
probably  half  an  hour  for  each  trip,  and  to 
transport  two  thousand  sheep  in  that  way  would 
take  us — let's  see — it  would  take  us  five  days  if 
we  worked  sixteen  hours  a  day.  I'm  afraid  that 
scheme  won't  do,  Stock." 

"Hm!"  said  Stock.  "That's  so.  Well, 
there's  only  one  other  way  left  that  I  can  see. 
If  we  don't  get  out  to-morrow,  one  of  us  will 
have  to  take  the  cart,  drive  home  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible,  and   come   back  with   all   the   men   and 


84  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

wagons  he  can  gather.  In  that  way,  anyhow, 
we  can  ferry  them  over." 

"  Yes,  we  could  do  it  that  way  ;  though  even 
then  it  would  take  two  days,  not  counting  to- 
morrow, before  we  could  get  back  with  the 
wagons,  and  the  sheep  would  be  getting  pretty 
hungry  by  that  time,  for  there  is  hardly  grass 
enough  left  here  to  last  them  over  night.  Still, 
that  by  itself  won't  hurt  them,  for  there  is  plenty 
of  water,  and  it  is  wonderful  how  long  a  sheep 
will  live  on  water  alone,  especially  your  hardy 
Mexican.  So,  if  we  absolutely  cannot  get  out 
any  other  way,  we  have  that  as  a  last  resource  at 
least." 

As  it  became  dark  we  brought  up  the  sheep 
near  our  camp  among  the  trees,  and  having 
settled  them  for  the  night  we  lighted  our  four 
fires,  the  glow  of  which  we  felt  satisfied  would 
keep  the  lions  at  a  respectful  distance.  It  was 
Hidalgo's  turn  to  take  first  watch,  and  I  noticed 
that  the  little  Mexican  before  going  on  took  his 
blanket  and  folded  it  over  his  shoulders  shawl- 
wise,  fastening  it  around  his  middle  with  a  piece 
of  cord. 

"  Hallo,  Hidalgo  !  "  said  I.  "  Putting  on  your 
armor  to  fight  the  lions  ?  " 


A   Lion  in  the  Path  85 

The  boy  smiled.  "  No,  senor,"  said  he,  "  I  am 
not  afeared  of  the  lions ;  but  there  come  pretty 
soon  plenty  rain." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  I  asked  ;  for  as  far  as 
I  could  see  there  was  no  sign  of  rain. 

Hidalgo  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Quien 
sahef"  he  replied  ;  and  I  knew  it  was  no  use 
questioning  him  further.  He  knew ;  but  he 
did  not  know  how  he  knew.  Nevertheless, 
though  to  me  his  apprehensions  seemed  ground- 
less, I  was  aware  that  the  warning  was  not  to 
be  disregarded,  for  some  of  these  Mexicans  seem 
to  be  gifted  with  a  wonderful  weather-sense. 
Before  going  to  bed,  therefore,  I  took  such 
small  precautions  as  I  could ;  though  all  I 
really  could  do  was  to  stow  away  all  our  pro- 
visions and  an  armful  of  dry  wood  in  our 
water-tight  "  grub-box."  This  done,  Stock  and 
I  lay  down  in  our  blankets  on  the  grass — or, 
rather,  on  the  gravel — leaving  Hidalgo  on 
guard,  with  instructions  to  keep  the  fires  going 
and  to  rouse  us  at  the  first  alarm. 

For  some  time  we  lay  listening  to  the  lions 
which  were  making  a  great  to-do  over  in  the 
arroyo,  but  as  there  was  no  disturbance  among 
the   sheep  we  concluded  that  the  enemy  was 


86  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

afraid  to  come  near  us,  and  presently  we  fell 
sound  asleep  and  forgot  them  and  everything  else. 

It  was  probably  about  midnight  that  we  were 
aroused  by  the  eager  voice  of  Hidalgo  exclaim- 
ing, "  Wake  up,  senores,  wake  up  !  There  come 
much  water  !  " 

We  sprang  up,  wide  awake  in  an  instant,  and 
listened.  The  lions  had  given  up  howling  by 
this  time,  and  the  sheep  were  all  asleep.  The 
night  was  absolutely  silent  except  that  towards 
the  west  we  could  hear  a  dull  murmur  which 
increased  in  volume  every  moment.  We  hoped 
it  might  be  only  the  wind  in  the  cedars,  but  it 
sounded  ominously  like  a  flood  coming.  More 
than  that,  the  western  sky  was  lighted  up  by 
incessant  lightning,  and  pretty  soon  the  rumble 
of  distant  thunder  began  to  make  itself  heard. 
We  were  in  for  it,  and  no  mistake. 

The  sound  of  the  approaching  flood  now  grew 
much  louder,  and  presently,  with  a  roar  and  a 
crash  of  breaking  trees,  it  burst  out  of  the 
caiion  above. 

"  Sounds  pretty  big,"  said  Stock.  "  I  wonder 
if  it  is  coming  down  both  channels." 

I  was  about  to  reply  when  the  flood  afforded 
a  conclusive  answer  for  itself.     Of  our  four  fires, 


A  Lion  in  the  Path  87 

that  one  nearest  the  bluffs  suddenly  went  out 
with  a  sharp  hiss,  and  one  after  the  other  in 
quick  succession  the  other  three  fires  were  ex- 
tinguished. Not  only  was  the  water  coming 
down  both  channels,  but  it  was  within  a  hun- 
dred yards  of  us  already. 

''  Senores,"  said  the  little  Mexican,  when  the 
last  of  our  fires  went  out,  "  I  think  in  my  head 
it  is  good  if  we  go  up  a  tree." 

We  thought  the  same  in  our  heads,  and  up 
we  went. 

By  this  time  the  sheep  were  aroused,  and  as 
the  thunder-storm  drew  nearer  we  could  see 
them  by  the  light  of  the  flashes  all  crowded 
around  our  tree,  which  fortunately  grew  on  the 
highest  part  of  the  island. 

Presently,  with  unexpected  suddenness,  the 
storm  burst  over  our  heads  with  a  deluge  of  ice- 
cold  rain,  which  drove  right  through  our  clothes 
to  our  skins,  and  with  flashes  of  lightning 
whose  glare  showed  up  everything  for  an  in- 
stant and  then  left  us  in  blacker  darkness  than 
before.  I  did  not  at  all  like  being  perched  in  a 
tree  under  such  conditions,  but  still  less  did  I 
care  to  descend  at  the  risk  of  being  swept  away 
by  the  flood,  and  as  my  companions  were  of  the 


88  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

same  mind  we  stayed  where  we  were.  For 
fifteen  minutes  perhaps  we  had  sat  shivering  in 
our  tree,  listening  to  the  roaring  of  the  flood 
and  the  cracking  and  banging  of  the  thunder, 
when  there  came  a  terrific  crash  accompanied 
by  the  sound  of  rending  wood — a  tree  near  by 
had  been  split  by  the  lightning.  This  was  bad 
enough,  but  it  was  not  all,  for  another  flash  two 
seconds  later  showed  us  about  three  hundred  of 
our  sheep  lying  on  their  backs  with  their  heels 
in  the  air — killed  or  stunned  !  Fortunately  the 
latter  was  the  case,  for  a  minute  afterwards  we 
saw  that  they  had  all  recovered  their  feet. 

This  was  the  worst  of  the  storm  for  us. 
Though  it  continued  to  be  pretty  severe  for 
some  time,  it  presently  passed  on  down-stream, 
leaving  us  in  perfect  darkness  and  silence,  save 
for  the  continuous  roar  of  the  flood-water. 

For  three  hours  more  we  remained  crouching 
in  our  tree,  not  daring  to  descend  and  not 
knowing  whether  we  had  any  sheep  left  or  not, 
until  at  last  the  first  streak  of  daylight  greatly 
relieved  our  minds  in  the  latter  respect  by  dis- 
closing the  whole  flock  gathered  close  about  our 
tree  ;  the  water  had  not  risen  quite  high  enough 
to  touch  them. 


A   Lion  in  the  Path  89 

Down  we  scrambled,  and  while  I  lighted  a 
fire,  Stock  walked  off  to  see  how  much  water 
was  coming  down  the  old  channel.  At  the 
same  time  Hidalgo  went  off  in  the  opposite 
direction  to  get  a  bucket  of  water.  In  half  a 
minute  he  came  running  back  in  great  excite- 
ment, crying  : 

"Come  quick,  seilores !  Come  quick  and 
see !  " 

We  ran  with  him,  and  our  astonishment  was 
only  equaled  by  his  own,  our  delight  only 
equaled  by  our  astonishment,  when  we  saw  that 
the  north  fork  was  dry  !  The  frolicsome  San 
Carlos  had  changed  its  course  again  during  the 
night  and  had  gone  back  to  its  old  bed  under 
the  bluffs,  where  a  muddy  stream  was  now  roar- 
ing down  between  us  and  our  late  enemies,  the 
lions. 

Without  giving  the  sheep  an  opportunity  to 
form  an  opinion  of  their  own,  we  rushed  them 
across  the  creek-bed  and  up  the  slope  beyond. 
In  ten  minutes  we  were  safe  I 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  Tkip  to  the  Foothills 

'T^HE  fall  of  the  year  is  the  sheepman's  easy 
-'-  time  ;  but  though  he  may  then  find  oppor- 
tunity to  get  about  and  see  something  of  his 
neighbors,  his  life  at  home  is  by  no  means  ren- 
dered monotonous  for  lack  of  occupation. 

The  two  thousand  "  Mexicans  "  having  been 
sent  off  in  charge  of  Juan  Vigil,  and  Hidalgo 
having  been  installed  in  his  place.  Stock  and  I 
were  sent  over  to  the  Badger  Springs  place  to 
see  that  the  corrals  were  sound  and  the  snow- 
fences  in  good  condition.  This  being  accom- 
plished, my  father  said  to  me  next  morning : 

"  Jamie,  it  is  time  to  plow  the  fire-guards. 
The  grass  is  getting  pretty  dry  now  and  a  range- 
fire  is  possible  any  day,  so  you  may  as  well  get 
about  it  at  once.  You  had  better  take  the  big 
grays  and  let  Stock  have  the  mule  team,  and 
begin  this  afternoon  :  the  teams  are  soft  from 
want  of  exercise  and  half  a  day's  work  will  be 
enough  to  start  with." 

90 


A  Trip  to  the  Foothills  91 

The  first  furrow  to  be  plowed  was  naturally 
that  one  immediately  around  the  home  place, 
for,  of  course,  the  most  valuable  part  of  a  ranch 
is  that  containing  the  buildings,  corrals  and  hay- 
stacks ;  and  of  these  three  things  I  am  inclined 
to  think  the  haystacks  are  the  most  important. 
The  sheepman  who  enters  upon  the  winter  with- 
out a  good  supply  of  hay  runs  the  risk  of  seeing 
his  whole  flock  starve  to  death ;  for  though  it 
seldom  does  happen,  there  is  always  the  possi- 
bility that  a  great  storm  or  succession  of  storms 
may  bury  the  country  under  a  foot  or  two  of 
snow,  keeping  the  sheep  penned  in  the  corrals 
for  a  week  or  more  at  a  time,  when  the  sheep- 
man who  has  not  a  good  supply  of  hay  to  fall 
back  upon  will  find  himself  in  bad  case. 

The  home  place,  with  its  horse-pasture,  buck- 
pasture  and  hay-bottom,  was  enclosed  by  a  fence 
running  about  one  mile  east  and  west  and  half 
a  mile  north  and  south.  Beginning  at  the 
northwest  corner  of  the  fence,  I  started  a  furrow 
and  ran  it  around  the  whole  place,  while  Stock, 
following  twenty  yards  behind,  ran  a  second 
one.  This  being  done,  we  started  again  and  ran 
four  more  furrows  beside  them,  thus  making  a 
good  wide  strip  of  bare  earth  which  by  itself 


92  Dale  and  Eraser,  Sheepmen 

would  check  any  ordinary  fire.  Outside  this 
strip  we  plowed  another  furrow  at  a  distance  of 
twenty  feet,  and  beyond  it  yet  another — the 
total  length  of  the  eight  furrows  being  over 
twenty-four  miles. 

But  this  was  far  from  contenting  us,  and  hav- 
ing plenty  of  time  we  determined  to  make  a 
thoroughly  good  job  of  it. 

Going  out  a  couple  of  miles  from  home,  we 
encircled  the  whole  place  with  two  furrows 
twenty  feet  apart.  These  furrows  were  five 
miles  long  on  the  north  and  south  sides  and  four 
miles  long  on  the  east  and  west,  enclosing  not 
only  the  home  place  and  twenty  square  miles 
of  grass-land,  but  also  our  second  winter  camp 
which  lay  on  the  stream  three  miles  to  the  east- 
ward. This  would  be  a  serviceable  guard  in 
helping  to  check  a  fire ;  but  even  this  did  not 
quite  satisfy  us. 

The  part  of  the  range  most  needing  protection 
is  that  lying  north  of  the  creek,  for  it  is  to  the 
northward  that  the  sheep  are  always  sent  in 
doubtful  weather.  At  the  same  time  it  is  from 
the  north  that  most  fires  come — for  two  reasons  : 
the  prevailing  wind  in  winter  blows  from  that 
direction,  and  the  most  prolific  source  of  range- 


A  Trip  to  the   Foothills  93 

fires  was  the  railroad,  which  also  lay  to  the  north 
of  us. 

We  therefore  plowed  two  more  furrows  on  that 
side,  carrying  them  down  as  far  as  the  creek  on 
the  east  and  west  ends ;  and  this  being  accom- 
plished we  felt  pretty  well  satisfied.  All  our 
furrows,  if  strung  out  together  in  one  line,  would 
have  been  nearly  eighty  miles  in  length. 

This  seems  like  a  large  amount  of  labor  to 
undertake  just  by  way  of  precaution — though  as 
a  matter  of  fact  it  looks  larger  than  it  is,  for 
with  our  big,  strong  teams  it  took  us  less  than 
two  and  a  half  days — but  it  pays.  A  bad  fire 
may  sweep  your  whole  range,  and  then  what 
are  you  going  to  do  in  the  face  of  winter  ?  A 
range-fire  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  dangers  most 
dreaded  by  the  sheepman  ;  he  is  continuously 
on  the  lookout  for  it  in  the  fall,  and  the  first 
sniff  of  smoke  will  send  all  hands  running  to 
beat  it  out.  Frequently  this  may  be  accom- 
plished, but  now  and  then,  in  spite  of  all  their 
exertions,  the  fire  will  get  past  the  beaters,  and 
then  it  is  that  the  fire-guards  come  in ;  then  it 
is  that  the  provident  sheepman  thanks  his  stars 
that  he  has  plowed  his  guards  in  time. 

We  were  very  much  pleased  when  my  father, 


94  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

who  had  ridden  out  to  inspect  our  work,  said  : 
*' Well,  boys,  you  have  done  a  first-rate  job ;  it 
is  the  best  fire-guard  we  have  ever  had.  Do  you 
find  it  hard  work,  Stock,  following  the  plow  ?  " 

"  I  did  at  first,"  Stock  replied,  "  until  Jamie 
showed  me  how  to  handle  the  thing,  and  then 
it  was  easy  enough.  At  first  I  gripped  the 
handles  as  tightly  as  I  could,  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  the  plow  jolted  and  jerked  me 
about  so  that  I  was  exhausted  at  the  end  of  the 
first  half-mile.  But  as  soon  as  Jamie  showed 
me  how  to  steer  it  with  hardly  any  grip  at  all, 
I  got  along  all  right." 

"  Yes ;  like  a  good  many  other  things,  '  it's 
easy  when  once  you  know  how.'  Well,  the  next 
job  I  have  for  you  will  be  less  monotonous  at 
any  rate.  You  know,  Jamie,  we  shall  need 
wood  this  winter,  so  you  and  Stock  can  take  the 
teams  and  go  to  the  mountains  for  a  couple  of 
loads  ;  and  while  you  are  about  it  you  may  take 
your  rifles  if  you  like  and  spend  a  day  or  two 
hunting." 

"  Why  do  you  go  to  the  mountains  for 
wood?"  asked  my  companion.  "Is  there  none 
to  be  had  any  nearer?  " 

"  No,  there  is  nothing  on  the  plains  but  a  few 


A  Trip  to  the  Foothills  95 

cottonwoods,  and  they,  besides  being  scarce,  are 
poor  stuff  to  burn,  and  so  we  always  go  up 
among  the  foothills  near  the  Obispo  Pass. 
Jamie  knows  the  way." 

"  Is  there  good  hunting  there?  " 

"  Yes,  I  believe  so  :  for  those  who  know  how 
to  hunt ;  which  I  suppose  you  don't." 

"  Not  a  bit ;  I  never  fired  a  rifle  in  my  life." 

"  Well,  you  might  get  a  deer  for  all  that ;  but 
as  Jamie  isn't  much  more  expert  than  you  are, 
I  advise  you  to  let  the  bears  alone,  if  you  see 
any." 

"  When  should  we  start,  father?  "  I  asked. 

"  You  may  as  well  start  to-morrow,  I  think. 
You  will  have  time  to  take  off  the  wagon-beds 
— for  you'll  only  need  the  running-gear,  of 
course — and  make  your  other  preparations. 
You  can  get  ofP  very  well  after  breakfast  to- 
morrow." 

Early  next  morning,  therefore,  we  left  the 
ranch,  Stock  driving  the  mules  and  I  the  grays, 
a  roll  of  blankets  tied  fast  to  the  running-gear 
of  one  wagon  and  a  well-filled  "  grub-box  "  to 
the  other.  The  pace  was  slow  and  the  way 
mostly  up  hill,  and  as  the  mule  team  could  be 
trusted  to  follow  the  grays,  Stock  for  most  of  the 


g6  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

distance  left  them  to  do  so,  himself  riding  beside 
me  on  my  wagon, 

"How  far  do  we  have  to  go,  Jamie?"  he 
asked,  as  we  plodded  along. 

"  About  thirty  miles,"  I  replied.  **  It  is  fort}^ 
miles  to  the  top  of  the  pass,  but  the  foothills  ex- 
tend a  good  ten  miles  in  this  direction,  and  as 
they  are  well  covered  with  trees  there  is  no  need 
for  us  to  go  farther." 

"  But  why  do  we  go  to  the  foothills  at  all? 
Wouldn't  it  be  as  near,  or  nearer,  to  go  down  to 
the  San  Carlos  and  cut  pinon  wood  on  the  mesa? 
Isn't  pinon  good  fire-wood  ?  " 

"  The  best  in  the  world,"  I  replied,  "  espe- 
cially for  open  fires,  for  it  burns  clear  and 
doesn't  pop.  But  as  you  know,  dwellers  on  the 
plains  can't  afford  to  burn  wood  in  open  fires,  it 
is  too  expensive  and  hard  to  get ;  and  as  to 
getting  pinon  for  general  purposes,  it  pays  better 
for  us  to  go  a  little  farther  and  get  pine  wood 
instead.  For  pinon  is  short  stuff,  whereas  if 
you  load  up  with  good  long  pine  poles  you  can 
bring  home  twice  the  amount  of  wood  in  one 
trip." 

*'  I  see.  Yes.  Do  you  expect  to  make  the 
distance  to-day  ?  " 


A  Trip   to   the   Foothills  97 

"  Yes,  we  ought  to  do  it  easily  enough,  for 
though  we  never  trot  these  heavy  work  teams 
if  we  can  help  it,  they  are  good  walkers  and 
should  bring  us  to  our  destination  in  plenty  of 
time  to  allow  us  to  make  our  camp  before  night. 
I  know  a  fine  place  for  the  purpose." 

After  an  hour's  rest  at  midday,  we  went  on 
again,  until,  about  four  in  the  afternoon,  we 
reached  the  place  I  had  been  making  for.  This 
was  an  ideal  camping-ground  for  our  purpose : 
a  little  box-caiion  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
limestone  cliffs  about  twenty  feet  high,  and  with 
an  entrance  so  narrow  that  it  might  easily  be 
barred  with  two  or  three  stout  pine  poles.  In- 
side were  enclosed  about  twenty  acres  of  good 
grass  and  a  sprinkling  of  trees,  while  from  the 
ledge  at  the  upper  end  there  fell  a  tiny  water- 
fall. All  the  requisites  for  a  perfect  camping 
place  were  here  provided  :  wood,  water,  grass 
and  shelter ;  and  here  with  complete  safety  we 
could  leave  our  teams  while  we  went  off  to  cut 
wood. 

"  Stock,"  said  I,  when  the  horses  and  mules 
had  been  unharnessed  and  after  a  roll  and  a 
shake  had  walked  off  to  feed,  "  there  is  a  little 
stream  just  below  here  with  lots  of  trout  in  it; 


98  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

if  you  like  you  can  go  and  try  for  some  while  I 
make  camp.  Here's  a  line  and  some  flies  ;  I 
brought  them  on  purpose." 

My  partner  was  glad  to  go,  and  in  an  hour 
and  a  half  he  was  back  again  with  a  string  of 
twenty  nice  little  mountain  trout,  which  formed 
a  welcome  addition  to  our  supper  of  fried  ham 
and  bread  and  butter. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  next  day  was  to 
find  a  good  lot  of  dry  timber  and  to  cut  sufiicient 
of  it  to  make  two  loads.  Ax  in  hand  therefore 
we  sallied  forth,  and  having  barred  the  entrance 
of  the  canon,  went  clambering  up  the  hill — 
taking  it  leisurely,  for  Stock,  who  was  not  used 
to  it,  soon  found  that  scrambling  up  hill  at  an 
elevation  of  eight  thousand  feet  is  rather  hard 
upon  the  lungs. 

In  a  short  time  we  came  upon  a  patch  of  timber 
which  though  dead  was  still  perfectly  sound, 
and  upon  this  we  set  to  work.  Stock  chose  a 
forty-foot  pole  without  a  branch  upon  it,  which, 
growing  upon  the  hill-slope,  leaned  over  very 
considerably  on  the  down-hill  side.  Soon  the 
yellow  chips  were  flying  under  his  ax,  while  1 
on  my  part  went  to  work  upon  a  tree  some  thirty 
yards  away. 


A  Trip  to  the  Foothills  99 

We  had  been  at  it  but  a  few  minutes  when  I 
caught  sight  of  some  moving  object  out  of  the 
tail  of  my  eye,  and  looking  up,  1  was  astonished 
and  at  the  same  time  a  good  deal  alarmed  to  see 
a  black  bear  coming  up  the  hill  towards  us  as 
fast  as  she  could  run,  evidently  with  hostile 
intent. 

"  Look  out.  Stock  !  "  I  shouted.  "  Look  out ! 
A  bear ! " 

With  that  I  dropped  my  ax  and  in  two 
seconds  was  up  among  the  topmost  branches  of 
my  tree.  As  for  Stock,  one  glance  was  enough 
for  him.  He,  too,  dropped  his  tool  and  hastily 
swarmed  up  the  bare,  sloping  trunk  of  the  tree 
he  had  been  at  work  upon. 

Running  straight  to  the  foot  of  this  pole,  the 
bear  rose  upon  her  hind  feet  and  placed  her 
paws  upon  it,  when,  with  a  sharp  crack,  the 
already  weakened  tree  broke  off  at  the  butt.  It 
did  not  fall  far,  however,  for  its  upper  end 
caught  in  the  branches  of  another  tree  just  across 
the  creek,  forming  a  bridge  twenty  feet  above 
the  water. 

This  was  most  convenient  for  the  bear,  which 
without  hesitation  ran  briskly  up  the  easy  slope 
of  the  tree-trunk — much  to   my  surprise   and 


loo  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

dismay,  and  still  more  so  to  Stock's.  The  latter 
had  almost  reached  the  supporting  tree,  but  see- 
ing how  quickly  the  bear  was  coming  he  knew 
he  could  not  escape  in  time.  He  therefore  with 
great  agility  changed  his  position  so  that  he 
faced  the  enemy,  and  reaching  up  into  the 
branches  above  his  head  he  broke  off'  a  big  dead 
limb  with  which,  when  the  bear  had  come  within 
range,  he  saluted  her  with  a  sounding  thwack 
upon  her  jaw. 

The  bear  did  not  like  this,  for  she  stopped, 
growled  and  shook  her  head.  She  was  not  to  be 
daunted,  though,  for  soon  she  advanced  another 
step,  when  Stock,  holding  the  dead  branch  in  both 
hands,  with  all  his  strength  jabbed  her  several 
times  in  the  face  with  its  rough  butt  end.  The 
bear  did  not  like  this  either  ;  she  dodged  her 
head  this  way  and  that,  until  presently  with  a 
quick  snap,  she  seized  the  end  of  the  branch  with 
her  teeth.  Thus  for  a  moment  the}^  struggled, 
the  bear  trying  to  advance,  and  Stock  using 
every  effort  to  make  her  lose  her  balance — but 
only  for  a  moment. 

The  pole  upon  which  this  struggle  was  taking 
place  w^as  not  quite  straight :  it  bowed  slightly 
upwards.     The  violent  scrimmage  going  on  upon 


A  Trip  to  the  Foothills  loi 

its  outer  curve  caused  it  to  vibrate  so  that  the 
last  fibres  of  wood  which  still  held  it  in  position 
were  broken,  when  without  warning  it  instantly 
turned  over ! 

Naturally,  both  boy  and  bear  at  once  let  go  of 
the  branch,  the  one  with  hands  and  feet  and  the 
other  with  all  her  claws,  clinging  desperately  to 
the  inverted  tree-trunk.  Stock,  when  he  felt 
the  pole  going,  had  thrown  himself  forward 
upon  his  face  and  clasped  it  with  his  arms — an 
action  which,  when  he  found  himself  hanging 
upside  down,  brought  his  head  within  three  feet 
of  the  bear's.  Thus  for  a  moment  they  both 
hung,  gazing  at  each  other  out  of  the  tops  of 
their  eyes,  until,  seeing  that  the  bear  was  strug- 
gling to  regain  her  position.  Stock  let  go  with 
his  feet  and  quickly  swinging  himself  round  so 
as  to  face  his  antagonist  again,  he  launched  at 
her  neck  and  chest  several  vigorous  kicks — or, 
rather,  stamps — hoping  to  break  her  hold. 

The  bear,  however,  was  very  quick,  and  snap- 
ping at  her  assailant's  feet  she  presently  caught 
the  heel  of  one  of  his  boots  between  her  teeth. 
But  the  effort  caused  her  claws  to  slip,  and 
presently,  in  spite  of  her  frantic  efforts  to  hold 
on,  down  she  went,  taking  the  boot-heel  with  her. 


102         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

The  sudden  jerk  of  some  three  hundred 
pounds'  weight  of  bear  upon  Stock's  foot  was 
too  much  for  him,  strong  though  he  was ;  his 
hold,  too,  was  broken,  and  down  he  went  after 
the  bear. 

Fortunately  for  both  of  them,  the  stream  at 
this  point  had  scooped  out  a  deep  hole,  and  into 
six  feet  of  water  the  pair  of  them  plunged  with 
a  prodigious  splash. 

The  next  moment  I  saw  them  both.  Stock  on 
one  side  and  the  bear  on  the  other,  scramble 
out  of  the  hole,  when  away  they  both  went,  as 
hard  as  they  could  lay  legs  to  the  ground,  in 
opposite  directions. 

All  this  time  I  had  been  perched  in  my  tree 
in  a  state  of  stupefaction,  too  entranced  to  utter 
a  sound,  until  the  sight  of  the  late  antagonists 
running  away  from  each  other  in  opposite  direc- 
tions seemed  to  break  the  spell  and  I  shouted  a 
joyous  ''  Whoop  !  "  which  at  once  brought  Stock 
to  a  standstill. 

Slipping  quickly  down  the  tree,  I  caught  up 
my  ax  and  ran  to  my  companion. 

*'  Hurt,  Stock  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  he  replied,  as  soon  as  he  could  get 
his  breath.     '*  The  bear  bit  off  the  heel  of  my 


A  Trip  to  the  Foothills  103 

boot " — turning  it  up  for  me  to  see — **  and  that's 
all.     Where's  she  gone?  " 

"  She  ran  into  that  little  clump  of  bushes  on 
the  hillside  there,  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  Stock. 
I  expect  the  bear's  den  is  in  among  those  bushes, 
and  she  probably  has  some  cubs  in  there.  I 
can't  account  otherwise  for  her  attacking  us 
without  provocation.  I  never  heard  of  a  black 
bear  doing  such  a  thing  before." 

"  I  expect  that's  it,"  my  companion  assented  ; 
''  and  she,  not  unnaturally,  objects  to  our  hang- 
ing round  the  neighborhood  of  her  residence." 

"  Exactly." 

"  Well,  then,"  rejoined  Stock,  who  by  this 
time  had  quite  recovered  his  breath  and  his 
composure,  "  I  think  we  may  as  well  respect  her 
prejudices  and  go  and  chop  wood  somewhere 
else." 

This  suggestion  met  with  no  opposition  on 
my  part,  and  Stock  having  secured  his  ax  we 
departed  forthwith,  congratulating  ourselves 
that  we  had  come  out  of  our  predicament  so 
easily. 

We  had  no  trouble  in  finding  other  places 
where  we  could  get  a  supply  of  wood,  and  all 
that  day  and  part  of  the  next  we  worked  with 


I04  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

our  axes ;  finally  taking  the  mules  up  into  the 
hills  and  snaking  the  logs  down  to  a  place  near 
our  camp  convenient  for  loading  them  upon  the 
wagons.  This  done,  we  decided  that  we  would 
try  our  luck  at  hunting,  and  next  morning  we 
set  off,  each  carrying  a  rifle. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  and  look  up  your  friend, 
the  bear.  Stock  ?  "  said  I,  as  we  tramped  along. 

"  Not  to-day,  thank  you,"  he  replied.  "  One 
interview  is  enough  for  me.  Odd,  isn't  it,  that 
your  father  should  have  warned  us  against 
hunting  bears,  and  the  very  first  thing  to  hap- 
pen should  be  that  a  bear  should  come  hunting 
us.  For  my  part,  I'm  perfectly  willing  to  leave 
them  alone  if  they'll  do  the  same  by  me." 

The  morning  air  was  cold,  the  wind,  which 
blew  in  our  faces,  coming  straight  from  the 
snow-covered  peaks  of  the  Trinity  range,  whose 
glistening  summits  we  could  see  ahead  of  us 
through  the  trees.  We  had  walked  and  climbed 
about  four  miles,  the  country  becoming  steeper 
all  the  time,  when  we  came  upon  a  deep,  narrow 
valley  squeezed  in  between  two  high  hills.  At 
my  suggestion  we  here  divided  our  forces,  Stock 
climbing  the  hill  on  the  right  of  the  stream 
while  I  took  the  one  on  the  left. 


A  Trip  to  the  Foothills  105 

I  had  clambered  up  pretty  high,  when,  looking 
ahead,  I  saw  in  a  clearing  on  Stock's  side  some 
large  animal  feeding.  It  had  a  splendid  pair  of 
antlers,  and  though  I  had  never  encountered 
one  before,  I  felt  certain  it  was  an  elk,  and  a 
big  one  at  that. 

From  my  position  I  could  not  go  forward 
without  being  detected,  and  how  to  warn  Stock 
of  what  was  ahead  of  him  without  at  the  same 
time  alarming  the  game,  puzzled  me.  Retreat- 
ing a  few  paces  out  of  sight  of  the  elk,  I  stood 
watching  my  partner,  who  was  plainly  visible  to 
me  as  he  went  clambering  up  the  steep  hill, 
hoping  all  the  time  that  he  would  turn  to  look 
for  me.  For  a  long  time  he  went  straight  on 
and  I  was  fearing  every  moment  that  he  would 
come  upon  the  elk  unawares,  when  at  last  he 
stopped  and  looked  back.  I  waved  my  arms, 
and  the  moment  he  responded  I  dropped  to  the 
ground ;  seeing  which  Stock  instantly  did  the 
same.  Thereupon  I  arose  again  and  motioned 
him  to  go  forward  ;  when  he,  guessing  at  once 
that  there  was  something  ahead  which  I  could 
see  and  he  could  not,  moved  cautiously  on  once 
more.  Every  now  and  then  he  looked  back  to 
me  for  instructions,  and  each  time  I  waved  him 


io6         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

forward,  until  at  last  I  saw  him  drop  suddenly 
to  the  ground.  I  knew  what  that  meant — he 
had  caught  sight  of  the  elk. 

This  was  all  I  wanted,  so,  advancing  again  a 
few  steps,  I  took  up  a  position  in  a  safe  place 
whence  I  could  watch  the  whole  proceeding. 

Slowly  Stock  crawled  forward  from  tree  to 
tree  until  at  length  he  stopped  behind  a  bush 
through  the  light  foliage  of  which  I  saw  him 
cautiously  push  his  rifle  barrel.  For  a  long  time 
he  maintained  this  position,  while  I  stood  won- 
dering why  he  did  not  shoot,  when  presently  to 
my  astonishment  he  withdrew  his  rifle  again 
and  then  for  another  long  time  he  lay  there 
merely  watching  the  elk.  My  impatience  may 
be  imagined  ;  but  the  climax  came  when  Stock 
calmly  rose  to  his  feet  and  stepped  into  the  open. 
The  elk  took  one  glance,  and  in  a  flash  was  gone  ! 

"  What  on  earth  did  you  do  that  for  ?  "  I  ex- 
claimed, somewhat  petulantly,  I  fear,  as  soon  as 
my  partner  had  rejoined  me.  "  Why  didn't  you 
shoot?" 

"  I  couldn't,  Jamie,  and  that's  the  truth.  I 
feel  as  if  I  owed  you  an  apology  ;  but  I  couldn't 
help  it.  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  shoot  him.  I 
perfectly  intended  to  do  so  when  I  pushed  my 


A  Trip  to  the  Foothills  107 

rifle  through  the  bush,  and  he  was  an  easy  tar- 
get, but  I  paused  for  a  moment  to  watch  him, 
and  he  looked  so  handsome  and  proud  and  so 
perfectly  unconscious  that  a  murdering  human 
lay  within  fifty  yards  of  him  that  I  couldn't 
bring  myself  to  do  it.  And  then  I  began  to 
think  to  myself,  '  What  right  have  I,  anyhow,  to 
kill  this  splendid  fellow?  By  crooking  my 
finger  I  can  stop  his  life  and  convert  this  beauti- 
ful, harmless  living  creature  into  a  heap  of  car- 
rion— -just  for  my  own  amusement ;  for  I  have 
no  other  excuse.  No,'  thinks  I,  *  I'll  be  shot  if  I 
do.'     And  so  I  let  him  off,  Jamie." 

All  my  feeling  of  annoyance  had  vanished 
when  Stock  spoke  of  owing  me  an  apology ;  I 
felt  that  if  any  one  owed  an  apology  it  was  I 
rather  than  he.  Moreover,  though  it  had  never 
occurred  to  me  before,  I  began  to  see  that  his 
view  of  the  case  had  a  good  deal  of  reason  in  it. 
What  right  had  we  to  kill  these  innocent 
creatures,  which  never  had  done,  and  never 
would  do,  harm  to  us  or  any  one  else  ? 

"  Stock,"  said  I,  holding  out  my  hand  to  him, 
"  I'll  own  up  that  I  did  feel  annoyed  for  a 
moment ;  but  you  were  right.  I'm  glad  you 
didn't  shoot." 


io8  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  old  chap!  " 
exclaimed  my  companion,  as  he  heartily  shook 
hands  with  me.  "  And  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is, 
Jamie  :  I've  made  up  my  mind  that,  unless  I'm 
driven  to  it  for  food,  I  never  will  shoot  any  of 
these  wild  animals — excepting,  of  course,  harm- 
ful ones,  like  wolves  and  coyotes.  So,  the  next 
time  I  go  hunting  I  shall  go  with  a  camera." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  I,  laughing,  "  as  we 
haven't  a  camera,  we  may  as  well  go  back  to 
camp,  load  up  our  logs  and  dig  out  for  home  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning." 

"  All  right,  Jamie,  let's  do  it." 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    RANGE-FIRE 

OUR  wood  supply  for  the  year  having  been 
brought  safely  home,  Stock  and  I  for  the 
next  few  days  busied  ourselves  about  the  place 
getting  things  ready  for  winter — repairing  the 
corrals,  sheds  and  fences,  and  doing  a  hundred 
other  odds  and  ends.  We  had  about  cleared  up 
everything  when  my  father  received  notice  that 
a  carload  of  coal  he  had  ordered  would  be  on  the 
siding  in  town  on  the  following  Tuesday  and 
must  be  unloaded  at  once,  and  he  directed  Stock 
and  me  to  get  ready  for  hauling  it  home  on  the 
day  named — a  tedious  and  dirty  task,  one  of  the 
few  tasks  about  a  sheep  ranch  I  would  be  willing 
to  shirk  if  I  could. 

Though  the  stars  were  still  shining,  there 
were  indications  of  sunrise  in  the  eastern  sky 
when,  on  Tuesday  morning,  Stock  and  I  got  off 
with  our  two  big  wagons,  the  grays  as  usual  tak- 
ing the  lead,  and  away  we  drove,  one  behind 
the  other,  with  our  shoulders  humped  and  our 
coat-collars  turned  up  over  our  ears,  both  feel- 
109 


1 1  o  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

ing  very  sleepy,  rather  chilly  and  much  dis- 
posed to  growl  at  our  hard  lot.  But  by  degrees 
the  sky  lightened,  and  presently  up  bounced  the 
jolly  sun,  all  clear  and  sparkling  in  the  vapor- 
less  atmosphere.  In  an  instant  everything  was 
changed. 

"  Hurrah  for  the  sun  !  "  shouted  Stock  ;  and 
jumping  out  of  his  own  wagon  he  ran  forward 
and  clambered  into  mine,  where  we  rode  along 
together  chatting  cheerfully  on  every  subject  of 
which  we  had  any  knowledge  and  on  a  good 
many  of  which  we  had  none. 

"  Great  fellow,  the  sun  !  "  said  my  companion, 
turning  down  his  collar  and  unbuttoning  his 
overcoat.  "  I'll  w^arrant  him  to  stew  the 
megrims  out  of  anybody  in  two  minutes.  I 
often  think  how  the  dAvellers  in  the  smoky 
eastern  cities  miss  it  in  never  seeing  the  sun 
rise  as  he  was  meant  to  rise.  There  he  comes 
crawling  up,  red-faced  and  dull,  as  though  he 
hated  to  get  up — like  ourselves  a  couple  of 
hours  ago ;  but  here  he  springs  above  the 
horizon,  white-hot  and  glittering  and  full  of 
eagerness  ;  you  can  almost  imagine  him  rubbing 
his  hands  and  calling  out,  '  Hallo,  boys  !  Here 
we  are  again  !     Now  for  a  good  day's  work  I ' 


A  Range-Fire  1 1 1 

There  is  as  much  difference  as  there  is  between 
an  electric  light  and  a  gas-jet." 

"  Yes,"  said  I ;  "  and  that  leaves  out  of  the 
reckoning  the  number  of  mornings  when  he 
doesn't  appear  at  all  to  them ;  whereas  here  he 
comes  up  like  this  about  three  hundred  and 
fifty  mornings  in  the  year.  It  isn't  surprising 
that  the  Aztecs  and  those  fellows  used  to  wor- 
ship the  sun." 

We  had  been  going  along  for  about  two  hours, 
when  on  reaching  the  top  of  a  long  rise.  Stock 
suddenly  laid  one  hand  upon  my  arm  and 
pointing  with  the  other,  exclaimed  :  "  Look 
there,  Jamie  !     What's  that?  " 

A  long  way  oflP  to  our  left,  running  straight 
towards  us,  were  a  number  of  animals  which  at 
first  I  supposed  to  be  a  little  bunch  of  our 
neighbor,  Frank  Draper's,  sheep,  chased  by  a 
coyote.  Fulling  up  the  grays,  we  watched 
them,  and  as  they  came  nearer  we  discovered 
that  they  were  not  sheep  at  all,  but  a  band  of 
antelope,  among  which  were  several  young  ones, 
while  behind  and  just  above  them  flew  a  big 
brown  eagle,  sailing  softly  along,  an  occasional 
flap  of  his  great  wings  enabling  him  easily  to 
keep   pace  with  the  frightened  animals.     His 


1 1 2  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

intention  was  obvious :  he  would  keep  them 
running  until  one  of  the  young  ones  dropped 
from  exhaustion. 

This  time,  however,  he  was  doomed  to  disap- 
pointment. The  antelopes,  which  had  doubtless 
seen  us  long  before  we  saw  them,  ran  straight  to 
our  wagons  and  to  our  surprise  crowded  close 
around  them.  The  poor  creatures  had  evidently 
had  a  long  and  desperate  run,  for  their  heaving 
flanks  were  sunk  in  great  hollows  and  their 
beautiful  eyes  were  staring  with  fear.  Two  of 
the  young  ones  even  were  so  dead-beat  that 
when  the  rest  stopped  they  just  fell  down  in  the 
road  and  lay  panting.  Poor  things !  They 
must  have  been  hard  pressed  indeed  thus  to  run 
for  protection  to  their  enemy,  man. 

As  to  the  eagle,  he  perched  on  a  little  hillock 
thirty  yards  away  and  there  for  five  minutes  he 
sat  calmly  watching  us  out  of  his  round  yellow 
eye.  At  the  end  of  that  time  Stock  slipped 
down  from  the  wagon,  picked  up  a  stone,  and 
pushed  his  way  through  the  antelopes,  which 
merely  stepped  aside  to  let  him  pass.  As  soon 
as  he  saw  Stock  coming,  the  eagle  tilted  himself 
forward,  opened  his  wings  and  rose  from  the 
ground.     At  this  moment  my  partner  with  all 


A  Range-Fire  1 1 3 

his  force  hurled  the  stone  at  him,  striking  with 
a  sounding  thump  the  under  side  of  one  of  his 
wings.  One  would  think  it  ought  to  have 
broken  the  bone;  but  the  big  bird  took  no 
notice  whatever  ;  he  sailed  majestically  away, 
and  for  several  minutes  we  all — boys  and 
antelopes — watched  him  until  he  disappeared 
from  sight  over  a  distant  hill. 

Then  our  visitors  gathered  up  the  young  ones 
and  trotted  off  in  the  direction  from  which  they 
had  come,  while  we,  very  heartily  wishing  them 
good  luck,  resumed  our  journey. 

"  Well,  that  was  a  curious  incident,"  said 
Stock.  "  The  antelopes  couldn't  have  gone 
much  farther ;  but  they  must  have  been  pretty 
desperate  to  come  and  ask  protection  from 
us.  I  wonder  if  many  of  them  are  killed  by 
eagles." 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  replied.  "  I  never  saw  an 
eagle  chase  an  antelope  before.  I  saw  one  once 
chase  three  coyotes,  two  old  ones  with  a  young 
one  running  between  them ;  though  what  the 
result  was  I  could  not  see.  A  coyote,  though, 
has  a  better  chance  of  escape  than  an  antelope, 
for  he  can  run  into  a  hole  in  the  ground, 
whereas  the  antelope  has  nowhere  to  go,  and  I 


1 1 4  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

don't  see  how  he  is  to  escape  if  an  eagle  makes 
up  his  mind  to  run  him  down." 

**  No  ;  and  the  poor  things  can't  make  much  of 
a  fight  with  their  curved  horns.  All  they  can 
do  is  to  run  away." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied.  *'  Though  for  all  that  I  saw 
one  fight  a  dog  once ;  and  a  very  funny  thing  it 
was.  We  had  a  terrier  named  Smiler — he  was  a 
most  cheerful  little  chap — and  Smiler's  great  de- 
light was  to  chase  antelopes.  Of  course  he  never 
came  within  a  mile  of  catching  one,  but  it 
gratified  him  to  see  a  dozen  or  more  animals 
eight  or  ten  times  as  big  as  himself  fly  in  terror 
before  him. 

"  One  day  I  rode  down  to  one  of  the  camps, 
Smiler  coming  too,  and  as  we  went  we  espied  an 
antelope  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  Off"  went 
Smiler  as  usual — but  he  precious  soon  came 
back  again.  For  the  antelope,  instead  of  mak- 
ing off*,  sprang  forward,  and  with  one  jab  of  her 
sharp  front  hoofs  sent  the  dog  rolling  over  and 
over.  This  happened  two  or  three  times, 
when  the  disconcerted  Smiler,  as  soon  as 
he  could  get  the  chance,  ran  back  to  me  a 
good  deal  faster  than  he  had  run  the  other 
way.      I    knew   what   was    the   matter :    there 


A   Range-Fire  115 

was  a  fawn  lying  hidden  in  the  grass  some- 
where close  by." 

"  It's  wonderful,"  said  Stock,  "  how  bold  even 
a  timid  creature  like  an  antelope  will  be  when 
there's  a  young  one  to  be  protected." 

"  Yes,"  I  assented.  "  But  it's  still  more  re- 
markable, I  think,  how  bold  an  antelope  will 
sometimes  be  when  there  isn't  any  young  one  to 
be  protected.  The  queerest  thing  of  the  sort  I 
ever  did  see  was  down  at  Meadows'  one  time. 
Before  he  got  those  wolf-hounds  Mr.  Meadows 
used  to  keep  three  fox-hounds  with  which  he 
used  to  hunt  coyotes.  I  was  down  there  on  oi^e 
of  the  hunts  one  time ;  the  hounds  were  on  a 
strong  scent,  running  close  together  and  giving 
tongue  freely,  when  a  band  of  five  antelope  came 
running  up.  One  after  the  other,  each  of  those 
five  antelope  jumped  over  the  hounds'  backs, 
made  a  circuit,  came  back  and  jumped  over 
them  again.  They  did  this  five  or  six  times, 
and  then  ran  off  and  disappeared.  The  hounds 
took  no  notice  whatever.  Now,  how  do  you  ac- 
count for  that?" 

"  I  can't ;  unless  it  is  on  the  same  principle 
that  a  flock  of  small  birds  will  chase  an  owl  when 
he  flies  abroad  in  the  daylight." 


Ii6         Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

"  That's  the  only  explanation  I  can  think  of." 

"  It's  a  wonder  to  me,"  continued  Stock,  after 
a  pause,  "  that  there  are  any  antelope  left,  con- 
sidering how  many  enemies  they  have  :  eagles, 
wolves,  coyotes  and  men." 

"  Yes ;  and  of  all  their  enemies,  man  is  the 
worst;  worse  than  all  the  rest  put  together. 
Twenty  years  ago,  I've  been  told,  the  antelope 
were  about  as  plentiful  as  prairie-dogs ;  one 
might  see  bunches  of  them  in  every  direction, 
sometimes  as  many  as  a  hundred  in  a  bunch. 
But  since  men  took  to  hunting  them  for  the 
market  they  have  been  thinned  out  so  that  now 
you  may  ride  all  day  and  not  see  more  than  two 
or  three  bands — generally  from  two  to  ten  in  a 
band." 

**  I  heard  your  father  say  the  other  day,"  said 
Stock,  "  that  even  the  pot-hunters  were  less  de- 
structive than  the  '  sportsmen  '  from  town  with 
their  magazine  rifles." 

"  Well,  I  believe  that's  true,"  I  replied. 
"  Those  fellows'  idea  of  sport  is  to  crawl  up  on  a 
bunch  of  antelope  and  empty  their  rifles  into 
the  thick  of  them.  I  heard  such  a  fusilade  once 
and  soon  afterwards  a  band  ran  past  me,  three 
of  them  with  broken  legs.    It's  a  wicked  shame ! " 


A   Range-Fire  1 1 7 

"  That's  what  it  is.  Sportsmen,  forsooth ! 
Pah  I " 

In  due  time  we  reached  town,  filled  our 
wagons  with  coal,  fed  the  teams,  and  after  an 
hour's  rest  started  back  again,  arriving  after  sun- 
set. Then,  the  teams  having  been  turned  over 
to  Hidalgo,  the  wagons  were  emptied  into  the 
coal-bin,  their  wheels  all  greased  anew  for  the 
next  day,  and  after  that  we  were  at  liberty  to 
take  the  thorough  wash  and  the  ample  supper 
with  which  our  long  day  came  to  an  end. 

Four  more  days  of  this  kind  finished  the  job  ; 
but  it  was  no  sooner  over  than  we  had  to  begin 
again  hauling  a  car-load  of  corn — a  cleaner 
but  equally  tedious  task.  Our  hauling  for  the 
season  was  concluded  by  one  final  trip  when  we 
went  to  town  to  bring  home  a  great  stock  of 
groceries  of  which  the  largest  single  item  was  a 
ton  of  flour.  This  may  seem  like  a  good  deal 
of  flour  to  purchase  at  one  time,  but  with  four 
healthy  people  in  our  household,  in  addition  to 
half  a  dozen  hungry  Mexicans,  even  a  ton  of 
flour  will  disappear  with  marvelous  rapidity. 

It  was  a  few  days  after  this  that  we  were 
seated  at  dinner  when  we  heard  hurried  foot- 
steps on  the  porch  outside,  there  came  a  single 


1 1 8         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

sharp  tap  at  the  door  and  Hidalgo  popped  in  his 
head. 

"  Seiiores  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  smell  smoke  !  " 
Out  we  all  bundled  in  an  instant,  and  turn- 
ing our  faces  to  windward,  sniffed  the  breeze. 
Yes,  there  was  a  smell  of  smoke,  the  well-known 
scent  of  burning  grass,  but  it  was  very  faint ; 
the  fire  must  be  a  long  way  off.  Far  or  near, 
though,  it  must  be  attended  to  at  once,  so  down 
we  ran  to  the  horse-corral  where  old  Bony  was 
quickly  harnessed  up  to  the  two-wheeled  cart,  a 
number  of  sacks  thrown  into  it,  and  my  father 
and  Hidalgo  climbing  in,  away  they  drove. 
Before  they  had  started,  though.  Stock  and  I, 
carrying  two  sacks  apiece,  had  jumped  upon  a 
couple  of  ponies,  bareback,  and  had  galloped  off. 
The  wind  came  from  the  northwest,  so  north- 
westward we  rode.  From  the  top  of  the  high 
ground  at  the  back  of  the  house  we  caught  the 
first  glimpse  of  the  smoke ;  it  appeared  to  be 
five  or  six  miles  away,  so,  setting  the  ponies 
into  an  easy  lope  we  rode  towards  it.  As  we 
advanced  the  scent  of  the  smoke  became 
stronger,  and  every  moment  we  expected  to 
come  within  sight  of  the  fire.  But  it  is  not 
easy  to  judge  the  distance  of  a  fire  on  the  plains 


A  Range-Fire  119 

by  the  smell  or  even  by  the  sight  of  the  smoke, 
and  on  we  went  until  presently,  "  There's  the 
fire  !  "  exclaimed  Stock,  as  a  long  bright  line, 
with  a  cloud  of  light-yellow  smoke  driving 
ahead  of  it,  suddenly  appeared  over  the  brow  of 
a  hill  and  came  running  smartly  down  to 
meet  us. 

The  fire  had  a  front  of  four  or  five  hundred 
yards,  and  though  the  breeze  was  not  violent  it 
was  brisk,  and  we  guessed  that  we  had  a  good- 
sized  job  on  our  hands.  Galloping  forward  to 
within  a  hundred  yards,  we  jumped  from  our 
ponies,  and  leaving  them  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves, we  set  to  work  with  a  sack  in  each  hand 
to  beat  out  the  fire.  In  a  few  minutes  my 
father  and  Hidalgo  joined  us,  when  the  former, 
of  course,  took  command  of  the  beaters.  As  he 
jumped  out  of  the  cart  he  called  out : 

"  Jamie,  run  to  the  right-hand  corner  and 
beat  towards  the  middle ;  Stock,  you  start 
at  the  left-hand  corner ;  Hidalgo  and  I  will  be- 
gin in  the  middle  and  work  towards  you  !  " 

In  this  order  we  went  to  work,  my  father  and 
I  facing  each  other  and  coming  gradually  to- 
gether, and  Stock  and  Hidalgo  doing  the  same. 

Of  all  hard  work,  there  is  none  so  hard,  I 


I20  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

think,  as  that  of  beating  out  a  range-fire  when 
a  brisk  breeze  is  blowing.  The  exertion  of 
bending  over  and  swinging  the  sacks  with  either 
hand  alternately  is  heartbreaking — for  you  can- 
not stop !  An  instant's  pause,  and  away  goes 
the  fire  through  the  feathery  grama  grass  like 
the  shadow  of  a  cloud  over  the  landscape.  Nor 
can  you  afford  to  leave  a  speck  of  fire  behind 
you,  which  it  is  easy  to  do.  Every  one  knows 
how  difficult  it  is  to  see  the  flame  of  a  candle  in 
the  glaring  sunlight ;  but  if  you  do  miss  a  scrap 
of  fire,  Piff*! — in  ten  seconds  the  "candle  flame" 
has  spread  over  as  many  acres  of  ground  and 
your  work  has  to  be  done  all  over  again. 

For  two  hours  there  was  no  sound  but  the 
rapid  and  continuous  whack,  whack,  whack  of  the 
sacks  upon  the  ground,  and  though  by  that  time 
the  fire  had  advanced  perhaps  a  couple  of  miles 
nearer  the  ranch,  we  had  made  such  good  progress 
that  Stock  and  Hidalgo  had  beaten  out  their  part 
of  it  and  were  coming,  running,  to  help  my  father 
and  me,  who  were  hardly  ten  yards  apart,  when 
there  happened  the  very  thing  we  had  all  along 
been  dreading.  With  that  impetuosity  with 
which  Nature  does  everything  in  Colorado,  the 
wind  from  a  moderate  breeze  suddenly  increased 


A  Range-Fire  121 

to  half  a  gale.  Like  a  lashed  horse  the  fire 
sprang  forward,  and  in  an  instant  had  left  us 
far  behind. 

"  Catch  your  ponies,  boys ! "  shouted  my 
father.     ''  We  must  race  for  the  fire-guard  !  " 

Though  the  fire  had  run  past  them,  singeing 
the  hair  from  their  legs,  the  ponies  had  not 
bolted,  and  soon  we  Avere  all  galloping  south- 
ward, the  cart  bouncing  and  rattling,  and  old 
Bony,  as  though  he  appreciated  the  emergency, 
doing  his  best  to  keep  up  with  his  younger 
brethren. 

The  first  gust  had  been  the  most  violent,  and 
now  the  wind  had  settled  down  to  a  steady 
blow.  Consequently  we  soon  caught  up  with 
the  line  of  fire,  and  rushing  the  ponies  through 
the  flames  we  presently  reached  the  fire-guard, 
which,  it  will  be  remembered,  here  consisted  of 
four  furrows  each  twenty  feet  apart,  and  there 
behind  our  first  line  of  defense  we  took  our 
stand  to  await  the  impending  assault  of  the 
enemy. 

We  had  not  long  to  wait.  Down  upon  us 
came  the  fire  with  such  speed  that  it  looked  as 
though  it  knew  the  guards  were  there  and  had 
made  up  its  mind  to  jump  them  if  possible.     If 


122         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

it  should  succeed,  why,  then  we  should  have  to 
turn  and  run  for  the  main  guard  around  the 
home  place. 

Fortunately  for  us,  the  fire  had  come  so  fast 
that  it  had  not  had  time  to  spread  out  very  far 
laterally;  its  front  was  hardly  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  wide.  Fortunately  also,  coming 
as  it  did  from  the  northwest,  it  struck  the  guard 
at  the  corner  and  thus  took  it  slantwise  instead 
of  square.  Had  it  come  straight  from  the  north, 
thus  striking  the  furrows  at  right  angles,  I  think 
it  would  surely  have  jumped  each  one  in  turn. 

As  it  came  down  upon  us  with  a  faint  crackle 
— for  a  fire  on  the  plains  does  not  roar  ;  the  grass 
is  too  short — my  father,  marshaling  his  forces, 
called  out :  "  Jamie  and  Stock,  take  the  right 
from  the  corner ;  Hidalgo  and  I  will  take  the 
left.  If  it  jumps  the  first  furrow  in  many  places 
let  it  go  and  get  behind  the  second." 

Hardly  had  he  spoken  when  the  fire  struck 
the  angle  of  the  guard  and  split  in  two,  part 
going  to  the  right  and  part  to  the  left ;  though 
thanks  to  the  fact  that  it  hit  the  furrow  slanting 
it  only  jumped  the  first  guard  in  six  or  seven 
places.  Down  upon  these  we  came  with  our 
sacks,  and  in  a  moment  they  were  all  out ;  all 


A  Range-Fire  123 

but  one  which  ran  across  and  jumped  the  second 
furrow  also.  I  heard  my  father  call,  "  Behind 
you,  Jamie,  behind  you  ! "  and  running  back, 
with  two  blows  from  my  sacks  I  put  it  out.  The 
whole  front  of  the  fire  had  been  obliterated  in 
ten  seconds. 

Now  we  could  straighten  our  backs  once 
more  and  stretch  ourselves  for  a  minute  or  two, 
for  the  main  danger  was  over — thanks  to  our 
good  fire-guards.  But  the  work  was  not  over 
by  any  means.  Though  the  front  of  the  fire 
was  out,  there  was  still  a  thin  line  of  flame  of 
unknown  length  on  either  side  of  the  blackened 
stretch  of  prairie,  which,  not  being  driven  by  the 
wind,  was  slowly  eating  up  the  grass.  These 
could  not  be  left  to  burn,  for  a  change  of  wind 
would  make  another  fire  worse  than  the  first. 

At  it  we  went,  therefore,  my  father  and  the 
little  Mexican  on  one  line  and  Stock  and  I  on 
the  other.  It  was  a  long,  long  task.  The  sun 
went  down  while  we  were  still  beating  the  earth, 
and  not  till  two  hours  after  dark  did  we  at 
length  knock  out  the  last  remaining  spark. 

We  did  not  know  where  our  companions  were, 
having  long  before  lost  sight  of  them,  or  the 
ponies  either,    and  knowing   that  it  would    be 


124  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

useless  to  look  for  them  in  the  dark  in  that  great 
open  space,  we  took  a  line  by  a  star  and  set  off 
home,  feeling  sure  that  they  would  do  the  same. 

It  was  not  till  half  past  nine  that  we  reached 
the  ranch,  where  we  found  that  the  others  and 
the  ponies  had  just  come  in,  and  after  drinking 
about  a  gallon  of  water  apiece  and  taking  a 
good  cold  bath  we  sat  down  to  supper. 

"  Well,  Stock,"  said  my  mother,  "  what  do 
you  think  of  the  work  of  beating  out  a  range- 
fire?" 

"  I  think  it  is  the  hardest  work  I  ever  under- 
took, and  the  thirstiest,"  replied  my  companion, 
whose  hair  had  been  singed  by  the  flames,  and 
whose  eyes  were  red  from  the  effects  of  the  smoke 
blowing  into  them.  "  I  had  no  idea  before  how 
fast  the  flames  will  travel.  Why,  when  the 
wind  sprang  up,  I  believe  they  covered  a  hun- 
dred yards  at  the  first  jump." 

"  Yes,"  said  my  father,  "  it  looked  pretty  seri- 
ous at  that  moment ;  and  it  would  have  been 
pretty  serious  but  for  your  fire-guard.  It  was 
that  which  saved  us.  Without  it  the  fire  would 
have  run  right  through  the  hay-bottom  and 
would  have  been  down  at  Meadows'  by  this 
time.     As  it  is,  it  has  done  us  small  harm  ;  and 


A   Range-Fire  i  25 

on  the  other  hand,  it  has  furnished  us  a  useful 
lesson  on  the  advantage  of  getting  your  guards 
plowed  in  good  season.  You  boys  may  con- 
gratulate yourselves  on  having  done  such  a 
thorough  piece  of  work." 

'*  Yes,"  added  my  mother.  "  It  is  one  more 
example  of  the  truth  of  the  old  saying,  that 
what  is  worth  doing  at  all  is  worth  doing  well." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Copper  Pot 

A  S  the  cold  weather  approached  we  made 
-^^-  ready  to  bring  up  the  flocks  from  the  sum- 
mer camps.  Besides  the  Spring  Creek  ranch 
and  the  new  place  at  Badger  Springs,  we  had 
three  other  camps,  one  of  which,  an  excellent 
winter  camp,  lay  on  the  stream  three  miles  east 
of  the  home  place.  Its  buildings  consisted  of 
a  cabin  for  the  herders  and  a  corral,  divided 
across  the  middle  to  accommodate  two  flocks. 
The  corral  was  protected  on  the  north  by  a 
double  row  of  snow-fence,  but  there  being  plenty 
of  water  available  for  irrigation  my  father  had 
long  ago  set  out  three  rows  of  Lombardy  poplars 
on  the  north  and  west  sides,  which  being  now 
forty  feet  high  afforded  a  valuable  additional 
protection  from  the  storms  of  winter.  The  other 
two  camps,  which  lay  five  miles  to  the  south- 
ward, were  set  out  in  hollows  of  the  open  plain, 
their  water-supply  being  in  each  case  a  small 
spring,  which,  while  it  aflbrded  water  enough 
126 


The  Copper  Pot  127 

for  the  sheep,  was  yet  not  sufficiently  abundant 
to  keep  alive  any  number  of  trees.  The  only 
protection  from  the  weather  therefore  was  af- 
forded by  a  double  row  of  snow-fence. 

At  these  two  unsheltered  southern  camps  the 
flocks  stayed  until  the  approach  of  winter,  when 
the  sheep  from  one  of  them  were  driven  up  to 
the  home  place  while  the  other  two  flocks  were 
sent  to  the  camp  down  stream. 

During  the  summer  we  did  not  see  a  great 
deal  of  the  sheep,  for,  thanks  to  the  good  padre 
of  Obispo,  we  had  trustworthy  herders  who  did 
not  require  to  be  continuously  looked  after.  In 
fact,  all  that  was  really  necessary  was  to  make  a 
weekly  trip  to  each  camp  for  the  purpose  of 
replenishing  the  food  and  coal  supply,  and  oc- 
casionally to  bring  away  a  sheep  that  had  been 
hurt  in  some  way,  or  a  lamb,  born  out  of  season, 
with  its  mother.  It  was  of  such  that  Hidalgo's 
invalid  flock  was  made  up. 

The  fall  weather  that  year  was  very  fine,  as 
it  nearly  always  is,  but  towards  the  end  of 
October  my  father,  having  noted  a  downward 
tendency  in  the  barometer,  and  fearing  that  the 
fine  weather  was  about  to  break,  gave  the  order 
to  bring  up  the  sheep ;  Stock  and  I  driving  off 


I  28  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

in  the  buckboard  early  one  morning  to  deliver 
the  order. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  my  companion  as  we  drove 
along,  "  I  suppose  you  watch  the  barometer 
pretty  closely  during  the  winter." 

''  I  should  think  we  did,"  I  replied.  "  No 
ship's  captain  in  tropical  seas  watches  it  more 
closely  than  the  sheepman  does.  Every  move 
it  makes  is  noted.  A  sudden  drop  does  not 
worry  him — that  only  means  a  blow,  big  or 
little.  But  it  is  when  the  barometer  begins  to 
go  down  slowly  and  steadily  and  keeps  on  going 
down  that  the  sheepman  begins  to  fidget ;  for 
that  means  snow.  It  is  then  that  the  sheep  are 
sent  northward  to  feed,  so  that  if  a  storm  does 
come  it  shall  blow  them  home  again,  or,  if  it 
looks  very  threatening,  they  are  not  sent  out 
at  all." 

"  Is  the  barometer  always  to  be  trusted  ?  " 

"  Not  quite.  The  very  worst  storm  we  ever 
had  struck  us  without  any  warning,  though  why 
the  instrument  failed  to  notify  us  we  never 
could  understand.  On  the  other  hand,  the  ba- 
rometer once  dropped  an  inch  and  a  quarter  in 
twelve  hours — we  thought  we  were  going  to  be 
blown  off  the  face  of  the  earth — yet   nothing 


The  Copper  Pot  129 

happened.  In  that  instance,  though,  we  heard 
afterwards  of  a  severe  cyclone  in  Nebraska  that 
day,  and  we  suppose  our  barometer  felt  the  in- 
fluence even  at  that  distance.  There's  Jose 
Quintano.     So  it  is  going  to  snow." 

"  What  makes  you  say  that?  " 

''  Because  Jose  has  brought  his  flock  north- 
ward from  camp.  He's  evidently  suspicious, 
for  he  has  a  wonderful  nose  for  snow,  and  being 
a  careful  herder  he  wants  the  sheep  to  have  the 
storm  at  their  backs  going  home  if  it  does  come  ; 
otherwise  they  won't  go  home  at  all,  for  a  sheep 
will  let  himself  be  buried  fifty  feet  deep  rather 
than  face  a  blizzard.  We'll  turn  off  the  road 
here." 

As  we  went  joggling  towards  him  over  the 
lumpy  surface  of  the  plain,  the  herder,  who  had 
been  standing  like  a  statue  on  top  of  a  hill, 
watching  his  flock  in  the  hollow  below,  walked 
down  to  meet  us.  He  was  a  short,  stoutly  built 
fellow,  and  carried  a  heavy  staff"  in  his  hand. 

"  Good-morning,  Jose,"  said  I.  "  Sheep  all 
right?" 

''  All  right,  senor." 

"  Good  !     What's  the  weather  going  to  do?  " 

"  Snow  pretty  soon,  senor." 


130         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"How  soon?     To-day?" 

"  Perhaps  yes,  perhaps  no.  But  I  think  per- 
haps to-night." 

"  So  ?  Well,  Jose,  my  father  thinks  the  same, 
and  I've  come  to  tell  you  to  move  the  flock 
northward  at  once  and  corral  at  the  home  place 
to-night.  I  am  going  to  the  cabin  and  will  bring 
away  your  things." 

"  It  is  good,  seilor  ;  "  and  with  that  this  man 
of  few  words  turned  at  once  and  headed  his 
sheep  northward. 

"  Where  shall  I  find  Albino  Lopez  ? "  I 
shouted  after  him  as  he  walked  off. 

"  Two  mile  west  from  here,"  he  called  in 
reply  ;  so  away  we  went,  due  west. 

We  soon  found  Albino  and  his  flock,  and  hav- 
ing notified  him  of  the  intended  move,  we  next 
drove  to  the  cabin,  where  we  gathered  up  the 
herders'  blankets  and  such  provisions  as  re- 
mained, and  having  packed  them  into  the  buck- 
board,  started  for  the  other  camp,  which  lay 
another  five  miles  to  the  westward. 

In  due  time  we  found  Jose  Valdez  and  Jose 
Mendoza,  the  other  two  herders,  and  having 
given  them  the  same  instructions,  we  drove  to 
their  cabin  to  collect  their  belongings. 


The  Copper   Pot  131 

"  Phew  !  This  cabin  is  hot !  "  said  Stock,  as 
we  entered.  ''What  must  it  be  in  July?  I 
don't  see  how  they  stand  it." 

''  You  must  remember,"  I  explained,  "  that 
they  don't  have  to  stand  it:  they  get  out 
before  sunrise  and  don't  come  back  till 
sunset,  so  that  they  miss  all  the  heat  of 
the  day." 

'*  That's  so  ;  I  had  forgotten  that.  This  box 
of  a  place,  though,  must  be  like  an  oven  some- 
times, with  the  sun  at  a  hundred  and  fifty  de- 
grees beating  down  on  its  inch-thick  roof  and 
walls.  Shall  we  take  the  ax,  Jamie  ?  Nobody 
would  steal  it,  I  should  think  ;  it's  as  blunt  as 
the  edge  of  my  hand." 

"  I  know  it  is,"  said  I,  laughing.  "  We  always 
give  the  Mexicans  a  blunt  ax." 

"What?     On  purpose?     Why?" 

"  To  save  wood,  which  is  too  precious  to  waste, 
you  know.  If  they  had  a  sharp  ax  they'd  be 
doing  their  cooking  with  wood  ;  but  with  an  ax 
like  this  it  gives  them  all  the  chopping  they 
want  to  knock  off  a  few  chips.  It's  a  very  eco- 
nomical expedient." 

"  I  should  think  it  was  ;  though  it  seems  a 
little  tough  on  the  Mexicans.     Well,  we  seem  to 


132  Dale  and   Eraser,  Sheepmen 

have  collected  everything,  so  we  may  as  well  dig 
out,  I  suppose." 

We  were  very  pleased  to  see  the  four  flocks 
comfortably  corralled  that  night  at  the  home 
place,  for  the  barometer  had  been  going 
down  all  day,  and  if  it  were  going  to 
snow  we  liked  to  have  the  sheep  close  by 
under  our  eyes.  The  day  had  been  bril- 
liantly fine,  however,  not  a  cloud  visible, 
even  at  sunset,  but  at  nine  o'clock,  as  I  rose 
to  go  to  bed,  taking  a  last  look  at  the 
barometer  according  to  custom,  I  noticed  that 
since  our  last  observation  it  had  turned  and 
started  upward  again. 

"  Snow  to-night,  father,"  said  I.  "  The  ba- 
rometer has  turned." 

*'  Well,  that's  good,"  replied  my  father.  "  It 
won't  be  much  of  a  storm  after  all.  Go  out  and 
take  a  look  at  the  sky,  Jamie." 

I  went  out  accordingly.  Stock  accompanying 
me,  when  one  glance  aloft  settled  the  matter  in 
our  minds  :  the  snow  Avas  coming.  The  north- 
ern half  of  the  sky  was  dark  with  clouds,  and 
even  as  we  looked  two  or  three  specks  of  snow 
fell  upon  our  faces. 

"  It's  coming  all  right,"  said  Stock.      "  But 


The   Copper   Pot  133 

why  did  your  father  say  it  would  not  be  much 
of  a  storm  ?     What  did  he  go  by  ?  " 

"  By  the  fact  that  the  barometer  had  only  been 
going  downward  for  one  day  and  had  only  made 
a  moderate  drop — that  means  probably  no  more 
than  a  brief  flurry  of  snow.  If  it  had  fallen 
three-quarters  of  an  inch  and  had  taken  three 
days  in  doing  it  we  should  have  expected  a  real 
big  snowfall.  I'll  just  go  in  and  report  to  father, 
and  then  we'll  walk  down  and  take  a  last  look 
at  the  sheep." 

We  found  everything  snug  and  comfortable, 
the  four  flocks,  each  in  its  own  corral,  all  lying 
down  fast  asleep.  The  same  could  not  be  said 
of  their  herders,  though,  for  there  was  a  light  in 
the  cabin,  and  as  we  passed  we  could  hear  them 
talking  together. 

''Aren't  they  keeping  it  up  rather  late?" 
asked  Stock. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied  ;  "  but  it  is  only  for  to-night. 
They  are  great  fellows  to  gossip,  usually, — it  is 
about  the  only  amusement  they  have — and  you 
see  two  of  the  herders  have  not  seen  the  other 
two  to  speak  to  for  months,  so  they  have  lots  to 
talk  about.  Besides  which  Hidalgo  is  a  late 
arrival  from  Obispo  and  two  of  them  at  least 


134  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

have  not  seen  him  since  he  came — they  must 
have  a  thousand  questions  to  ask  him." 

By  this  time  the  snow  was  falling  pretty 
thickly,  so  we  walked  back  to  the  house,  and 
having  reported  "  all  well  "  to  my  father,  went 
to  bed.  About  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  I 
heard  the  front  door  open  and  shut  and  I  guessed 
that  my  father  had  risen  to  look  at  the  weather, 
so  when  I  heard  him  come  in  again  I  popped 
out  my  head  and  asked  : 

"  How  is  it,  father  ?  " 

"  All  right.  Just  what  I  expected.  Only  an 
inch  of  snow,  and  the  stars  all  shining  again." 

"  Good  !  "  I  exclaimed  ;  and  hopped  into  bed 
again. 

Next  morning,  the  weather  being  perfect  again, 
though  colder,  two  of  the  flocks  went  off'  to  the 
lower  camp,  leaving  Jose  Quintano  with  a  flock 
of  wethers  and  Albino  Lopez  with  a  large  flock 
of  ewes  and  yearling  lambs  at  the  home  place. 
Our  arrangements  for  the  winter  were  now  com- 
pleted. 

It  happened  one  day  not  long  after  this  that  I 
looked  into  the  cabin  to  give  Hidalgo  some  di- 
rections from  my  father,  when  I  noticed  hang- 
ing on  a  nail  in  the  wall  a  copper  cup  or  pot 


The  Copper   Pot  135 

about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  quart  measure.  It 
was  a  rough  piece  of  workmanship,  its  intrinsic 
value  being  measurable  perhaps  by  a  double 
handful  of  pennies,  but  it  was  interesting  from 
the  fact  that  it  had  been  hammered  out  by  hand 
from  a  lump  of  native  copper  ;  its  heavy,  curved 
copper  handle  being  secured  by  rivets  of  the 
same  metal. 

"  That's  a  queer  old  thing,  Hidalgo,"  said  I, 
taking  it  down  from  its  nail.  "  Does  it  belong 
to  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  My  grandfather  give  it  to  me." 

"  Did  he  make  it  himself?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  seiior.  He  find  it  one  day 
long  time  ago — twenty-thirty  year  ago.  He 
find  it  fast  on  a  dead  man  with  a  leather 
strap." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  That's  interesting.  Did  your 
grandfather  know  who  the  dead  man  was  ?  " 

"  I  think  yes,  senor ;  but  my  grandfather  he 
will  not  tell.  The  good  padre  he  tell  him  not  to 
tell." 

"Why?"  I  asked. 

Hidalgo    shrugged    his   shoulders.      "  Quicn 


136         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 


f  "  he  replied  ;  ''  but,"  he  added,  *'  I  think 
in  my  head  two-three  things.     Look,  seiior." 

So  saying,  the  boy  called  my  attention  to 
some  scratches  on  the  front  of  the  pot,  which 
on  examination  appeared  to  be  several  words 
written  seemingly  with  the  point  of  a  knife.  I 
attempted  to  read  them,  but  on  further  scrutiny 
I  found  to  my  surprise  that  the  writing  was  in 
Latin.  This  floored  me,  for  though  I  had 
studied  it  at  school  I  am  obliged  to  confess  that 
my  knowledge  of  the  language  was  quite  un- 
equal to  the  task  of  deciphering  the  inscription. 

"  What  is  the  writing  about,  Hidalgo  ?  "  I 
asked. 

The  boy  shook  his  head.  "  I  do  not  know," 
said  he ;  adding,  as  he  turned  the  pot  bottom 
upward,  "  Look-see  again,  senor." 

"  Hallo  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  More  writing. 
Some  of  this  is  in  Spanish  anyhow  :  '  To  Don 
Blanco  at  Obispo,'  but  the  rest  is  Latin  again. 
Who  was  Don  Blanco,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  Again  I  do  not  know,  seiior." 

"Well,  it's  a  queer  old  relic,  anyhow,  this 
pot.  Do  you  mind  if  I  take  it  up  to  the 
house  and  show  it  to  my  father  and  mother, 
Hidalgo?" 


The   Copper   Pot  137 

The  boy  was  quite  willing,  so  I  carried  it  off 
with  me.  I  was  a  little  late  for  dinner,  so, 
setting  down  the  pot,  I  said  nothing  about  it 
till  the  meal  was  over,  when,  handing  it  to  my 
father,  I  told  him  its  history  as  related  to  me  by 
the  little  Mexican. 

"  That  is  interesting,"  said  he.  "  Let  me  see 
if  I  can  make  out  the  writing." 

After  a  short  examination  of  the  scratches 
on  the  front  of  the  pot,  he  turned  to  me 
and  said,  "  This  is  simple  enough  ;  you 
ought  to  have  been  able  to  make  out  this, 
Jamie.  I  expect  the  poor  fellow  upon  whom 
this  copper  pot  was  found  was  either  badly 
wounded  or  perhaps  was  perishing  in  a 
snow-storm ;  at  any  rate  he  was  convinced 
he  was  going  to  die  and  being  a  Catholic 
he  wrote  here,  *  Pray  for  the  soul  of  Antonio 
Peral.'  " 

**  Peral !  "  exclaimed  my  mother,  quickly. 
"  Peral !     Pve  heard  that  name  before." 

"  Well,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had,  too,"  said 
my  father,  "  but  I  can't  think  where.  No," 
shaking  his  head  and  frowning  thoughtfully, 
"  no,  I  can't  think  where." 

"  Nor  can  I,"  repeated  my  mother ;  "  but  I 


138  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

feel  sure  I've  heard  the  name  somewhere  at 
some  time.     What  is  the  other  writing?  " 

"  Hm  ! "  said  my  father,  rubbing  his  chin. 
"  This  is  not  quite  so  simple.  The  Spanish  is 
plain  enough,  but  the  Latin — wait  a  moment." 

With  that  he  took  from  the  book-shelf  my 
old  Latin  dictionary  and  after  turning  over  the 
leaves  for  a  moment  he  raised  the  pot  in  his 
hands  again  and  said  : 

**  This  is  an  odd  thing.  Unless  I  am  mis- 
taken the  writing  says  :  '  To  Don  Blanco  at 
Obispo  :  The  gold  remains  behind  the  Harp- 
strings.'  " 

"  That  certainly  is  a  queer  message  for  a  dead 
man  to  send  to  his  friend — for  I  suppose  Peral 
was  the  writer.  I  wonder  what  the  '  Harp- 
strings  '  means.  The  message  sounds  as  though 
it  might  refer  to  some  buried  treasure  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort,  doesn't  it?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  very  likely,"  replied  my 
father,  "  especially  as  the  man,  Peral,  took  the 
precaution  to  write  the  principal  part  of  it  in  a 
language  which  the  Mexicans  in  general  would 
not  understand.  The  good  padre,  however, 
would  understand,  and  that,  I  expect,  is  why 
he  directed  Hidalgo's  grandfather  to  say  noth- 


The  Copper  Pot  139 

ing  about  it.  Probably  he  feared  that  if  the 
dead  man's  message  became  known,  the  vil- 
lagers of  Obispo  might  abandon  the  peaceful 
pursuit  of  agriculture  and  waste  their  time  and 
unsettle  their  minds  hunting  for  the  supposed 
treasure." 

"  Very  likely.  Ah  !  There's  Hidalgo  down 
in  the  garden.  Call  him  in,  Jamie,  and  let  us 
see  if  he  knows  any  more  about  it." 

As  soon  as  the  boy  entered  my  mother  said  to 
him,  "  Well,  Hidalgo,  so  you  don't  know  what 
the  writing  on  the  copper  pot  is  about,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  senora,"  replied  the  little  Mexican. 

"  And  I  suppose  you  don't  know  what  the 
*  Harpstrings '  means." 

"  No,  seilora,  I  never  heered  of  it." 

"  Does  anybody  know  what  the  writing 
says?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  the  good  padre  he  know,  and  my 
grandfather  he  know  one  time ;  but  he  very  old 
man  and  I  think  he  forget.  I  'member  one 
time,  long  time  ago  when  I  am  little,  the  good 
padre  he  come  in  my  grandfather's  house,  and 
he  take  down  the  copper  pot  and  he  look  at  it, 
and  he  say  to  my  grandfather  :  '  Sandoval,  the 
people   of  Obispo  they  cannot  read  this  writing 


140         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

what  is  wrote  here  and  it  is  all  safe  if  you  hold 
still  your  tongue  ;  so  mind  you,  Sandoval,  you 
shall  keep  tight  shut  your  mouth.'  And  my 
grandfather  he  nod  his  head  three-four  times 
and  he  say,  '  It  is  good,  my  padre ;  I  shall  not 
say  nothing.'  " 

"  And  they  are  the  only  two  who  know,  are 
they?     And  one  of  them  has  forgotten." 

"Si,  senora." 

*'  And  do  you  think  the  good  padre  knows 
who  Don  Blanco  was,  and  the  man,  Peral,  who 
wrote  the  message?  " 

"  I  think  yes,  senora." 

"  And  now  he  is  the  only  man  who  does 
know,  eh  ?  " 

Instead  of  answering  up  promptly  as  hereto- 
fore, the  boy  assumed  a  semi-mysterious  air ;  he 
advanced  a  step,  and  leaning  forward  he  said  in 
a  lowered  voice : 

"  I  think  no,  senora.  I  think  there  is  one 
man  more  who  have  heered  of  Don  Blanco  and 
Peral  and  the  copper  pot.  I  tell  you.  There 
have  live  in  the  valley  long  time  now,  ten-eleven 
year,  one  man,  an  Americano.  He  live  in  a  big 
house  near  Casa  Grande,  just  over  the  pass.  He 
have  much  cows  and  sheep.     One  day  I  go  to 


The  Copper   Pot  141 

the  padre's  house,  and  when  I  am  come  to  the 
gate  the  padre  and  the  senor  Americano  come 
out.  They  talk  together,  and  I  hear  the  senor 
say  the  name,  '  Don  Blanco.'  Then  the  good 
padre  he  shake  his  head  many  times,  and  the 
senor  he  jump  on  his  horse  and  ride  away  very 
quick." 

"You  think  he  was  trying  to  pump  the  padre, 
then." 

"  How  ?     '  Pomp?  '     I  think  he  ask  the  good 
padre  to  tell  him  the  secret  of  the  copper  pot." 
"  Yes,  that's  what  I  mean.     Well  ?  " 
"  Two-three  day  after,  I  go  to  our  house  and  I 
find  there  the  senor  Americano.     He  give  my 
grandfather  one  cigarro,  and  he  sit  and  he  talk 
and  he  talk  and  he  ask  one  thousand  questions ; 
and  my  grandfather — he  very  old  man — he  for- 
get that  the  good  padre  tell  him  to  hold  still  his 
tongue,  and   he  tell  all  he  can  'member  about 
Don  Blanco  and  Peral  and  the  writing." 
"  And  did  he  show  him  the  writing?  " 
"  No,  senora,  he  cannot,   for  the  good  padre 
have  come  two  day  before  and  took  away  the  pot. 
I  think  he  is  afeared  that  my  grandfather,  be- 
cause he  is  so  old,  shall  one  day  let  out  of  the 
bag  the  cat." 


142         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

''  When  did  this  happen,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  Two  day  before  I  come  away.  Then,  on  the 
morning  I  leave,  the  good  padre  come  to  the 
house  and  he  bring  the  pot  with  him,  and  he  say  : 
*  Sandoval,  this  is  your  prop'ty  but  it  is  good 
if  you  give  it  to  Jose  to  take  away  with  him ; 
and  for  me,  I  am  not  sorry  if  it  come  no  more 
back  to  Obispo.'  So  my  grandfather  give  it  to 
me  and  I  bring  it  away." 

''  Well,  that  is  a  very  interesting  story,"  said 
my  father.  "  But  I  think,  Hidalgo,  the  good 
padre  would  prefer  that  you  did  not  leave  the 
pot  about  where  every  one  can  see  it.  Put  it 
away  somewhere  in  a  safe  place." 

At  this  we  all  rose,  and  Stock,  taking  the  pot 
from  the  table,  handed  it  to  its  owner,  little 
suspecting  that  the  battered  old  relic  contained 
a  story  of  which  he  himself  was  one  day  to 
supply  the  final  chapter. 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  Great  November  Storm 

"  OTOCK,"  said  my  father  one  morning,  "  I 
*^  am  going  to  ship  a  couple  of  car-loads  of 
sheep  to  Kansas  City  in  a  day  or  two,  and  I 
think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  if  you  were  to 
come  with  me,  as  it  is  a  part  of  the  business  you 
will  have  to  learn.  Jamie  has  been  with  me 
several  times,  but  on  this  occasion  he  shall  stay 
at  home  and  you  shall  go  instead." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  replied  Stock.  "  I  shall  be 
glad  to  go.     How  many  sheep  does  a  car  hold  ?  " 

"  About  three  hundred  ewes  or  two  hundred 
and  fifty  wethers — the  cars  are  double-deckers, 
you  know.  You  and  I  ride  in  the  caboose.  It 
is  a  disagreeable  piece  of  work,  but  fortunately 
it  does  not  last  long." 

The  two  bunches  of  fat  wethers  and  dry 
ewes  were  started  for  town  next  day,  and  the 
day  after  my  father.  Stock  and  I  followed  to  load 
them  into  the  cars.  This  being  done,  the  fast 
freight  presently  pulled  out,  and  waving  my 
143 


144  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

hand  to  the  others  as  they  stood  on  the  back 
platform  of  the  caboose,  I  drove  off  homeward 
alone. 

During  the  few  days  of  their  absence  I  was 
boss  of  the  ranch,  and  though  I  felt  the  position 
to  be  one  of  honor  and  responsibility  it  was  also 
one  entailing  some  anxiety.  The  barometer  was 
never  so  closely  watched  before,  I  expect.  For- 
tunately the  weather  remained  fine,  though  the 
nights  became  very  much  colder,  the  thermome- 
ter going  down  near  the  zero  mark  two  or  three 
times. 

It  was  on  one  especially  cold  morning  that  my 
mother,  when  Hidalgo  came  up  with  the  milk 
cans,  noticed  that  the  boy's  teeth  were  chattering 
and  his  fingers  blue  with  the  cold. 

"  Why,  Hidalgo,"  said  she,  "  you  are  half 
frozen.     Where's  your  overcoat  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  any,"  replied  the  youngster. 

"  What !  No  overcoat !  Why,  you'll  freeze  to 
death.  Come  into  the  house  at  once  and  I'll 
find  you  one." 

Disappearing  into  a  back  room,  my  mother 
soon  brought  out  an  old  coat  of  mine  which  I 
had  long  outgrown,  but  which  was  still  sound 
and  warm.     Though  too  small  for  me,  it  was 


The  Great  November  Storm        145 

too  large  for  Hidalgo,  but  after  the  buttons  had 
been  moved  back  six  inches  or  so  it  fitted  him. 
pretty  well.  In  addition  to  this,  I  fished  out  of 
a  cupboard  an  old  pair  of  gloves,  of  which  I 
made  him  a  present,  and  Hidalgo  was  set  up  for 
the  winter.  The  little  fellow  was  exceedingly 
grateful,  and  that  there  was  no  make-believe 
about  it  he  showed  plainly  enough  some  ten 
days  later. 

My  father  and  Stock  had  returned  from  Kan- 
sas City  after  making  a  reasonably  easy  trip  and 
a  satisfactory  sale  of  the  sheep,  when  one  evening 
there  came  a  tap  at  the  door  and  Hidalgo 
entered. 

"  Good-evening,  Hidalgo,"  said  my  father. 
*' Everything  all  right?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  boy,  "  everything 
all-ri'.  I  come  to  speak  to  you  about  the 
copper  pot ;  "  drawing  it  from  under  his  coat  as 
he  spoke. 

"  Ah  !  About  the  copper  pot  ?  Have  you 
found  a  good  place  to  put  it?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  youngster  replied,  his  eyes 
twinkling.  "  I  find  a  good  place.  Oh,  yes,  the 
very  best  good  place." 

So  saying,  he  stepped  forward,  placed  the  cup 


146         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

in  my  mother's  lap  and  retreated  again.  "  I 
give  it  to  you,  senora,"  said  he. 

"  No,  no,  Hidalgo,"  my  mother  exclaimed. 
"  I  can't  take  it.  Here,  take  it  back,  Hidalgo  ; 
you  must  take  it  back." 

"  Ah,  no,  senora,"  said  the  little  fellow,  back- 
ing away  and  keeping  his  hands  behind  him. 
"  I  cannot  take  it  back.  It  is  to  me  so  great 
pleasure  to  give  it  to  the  senora  who  have  been 
so  kind  to  me." 

"  But,  Hidalgo,"  my  mother  remonstrated, 
"  what  would  the  good  padre  say  ?  He  would 
not  like  you  to  give  it  away." 

At  this  the  boy  smiled  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
and  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket  he 
brought  out  a  letter. 

"Look-see,  senora,"  said  he.  "  I  write  to  the 
good  padre  and  I  tell  him  how  the  senora  give  to 
me  the  coat,  and  I  ask  him  if  I  may  not  give  to  her 
the  copper  pot — I  have  no  thing  else  besides  to 
give — and  the  good  padre  he  write  to  me  and  he 
say,  '  Yes,  give  it  to  the  good  senora  who  have 
been  so  kind.'  " 

Hidalgo  seemed  to  think  this  settled  the  mat- 
ter, but  notwithstanding  the  padre's  permission 
my  mother  still  objected  to  taking  the   boy's 


The  Great  November  Storm         147 

only  treasure.  He  was  so  earnest,  however,  in 
his  desire  that  she  should  accept  the  gift  that  at 
last,  not  wishing  to  hurt  his  feelings,  she  con- 
sented. 

"  Very  well,  Hidalgo,"  said  she,  "  I'll  take  it, 
and  many  thanks  to  you.  Some  day,  perhaps, 
I'll  write  to  the  good  padre  myself  and  ask  him 
to  tell  me  the  story  of  Peral  and  Don  Blanco  and 
the  gold  '  behind  the  Harpstrings.'  " 

Hidalgo,  much  gratified  at  his  success,  here- 
upon turned  to  my  father  and  said  :  "  The  good 
padre,  senor,  he  write  one  more  thing.  He  say, 
'  Ask  the  Senor  Fraser  to  put  away  the  copper 
pot  safe.'  He  say,  the  senor  Americano  wish 
very  much  to  get  the  pot  for  himself,  and  he  is 
afeared,  if  he  shall  find  out  where  it  is,  he  shall 
come  here  and  try  to  take  it  away." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  said  my  father.  "  Very  well  ; 
I'll  lock  it  up.  So  this  seiior  Americano  is 
anxious  to  lay  his  hands  upon  it,  is  he?  Ap- 
parently he  knows  and  believes  the  story  of  a 
hidden  treasure  and  supposes  the  writing  on  the 
pot  will  give  him  the  clue  to  its  whereabouts. 
What  is  his  name,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  He  is  call  always  the  seiior  Americano,  but 
his  name  it  is  Mr.  Latimer." 


148         Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

*'  Latimer  !  "  exclaimed  my  father.  *'  That's 
odd.  There's  another  name  that  seems  familiar. 
Did  you  ever  hear  it,  mother  ?  " 

My  mother  shook  her  head,  "  No,"  she  re- 
plied, "not  that  I  remember." 

"  I  have,  though,  I  feel  sure  ;  but  Avhere  or 
when  I  can't  think.  Well,  never  mind.  We 
are  not  going  treasure-hunting,  an3diow  ;  so  I'll 
lock  up  the  pot  and  Mr.  Latimer,  whoever  he  is, 
will  have  to  get  along  as  well  as  he  can  without 
it." 

So  the  copper  pot  was  put  away  and  for  a  time 
forgotten ;  the  more  easily  as  there  occurred 
shortly  afterwards  an  incident  which  was  calcu- 
lated to  put  everything  else  out  of  our  heads  for 
the  time  being. 

About  the  twentieth  of  November  my  father 
was  obliged  to  go  to  Denver  on  business  which 
was  likely  to  keep  him  there  several  days.  It 
was  a  time  of  year  when  the  prudent  sheepman 
does  not  care  to  be  far  from  home,  but  the  busi- 
ness was  urgent,  and  so,  one  bright  and  frosty 
morning,  he  went  off,  leaving  me  in  charge. 

Needless  to  say,  we  watched  the  movements  of 
our  guide  and  friend,  the  barometer,  as  a  terrier 
watches  a  rat-hole ;  and,  needless  to  say  also, 


The  Great  November  Storm         149 

every  time  it  took  a  step  downward  our  hearts 
went  down  with  it,  and  every  time  it  turned 
back  again  our  spirits  rose  in  concert.  For  two 
days  its  general  tendency  was  upward,  but  on 
the  third  morning  we  were  disturbed  to  find  that 
it  had  dropped  two-tenths  of  an  inch  during  the 
night,  and  what  was  much  worse  it  was  still 
going  down. 

All  that  day  the  barometer  slowly  retreated 
and  all  the  next  day  ;  my  uneasiness  increasing 
in  proportion  to  its  descent.  Twenty  times  a 
day  I  set  the  indicator-hand,  always  backwards, 
and  twenty  times  a  day  I  climbed  the  hill  be- 
hind the  house  to  look  at  the  sky.  All  this 
time,  however,  the  weather  was  beautiful  and  I 
almost  thought  the  barometer  might  be  mis- 
taken ;  but  I  was  not  going  to  take  any  chances 
if  I  could  help  it,  especially  as  the  two  herders, 
whenever  I  asked  them  what  they  thought  about 
it,  always  replied,  "  Plenty  snow  by'm'by." 

On  the  second  morning  I  sent  the  sheep  north- 
ward, but  on  the  third  I  hesitated  about  sending 
them  out  at  all.  The  sheepman,  though,  is  al- 
ways very  unwilling  to  keep  the  sheep  corraled 
all  day  if  it  can  be  avoided,  and  the  sky  being 
still  as  clear  as  crystal,  I  sent  the  flocks  north- 


150  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

ward  again,  cautioning  both  herders,  however,  to 
keep  a  sharp  lookout  and  to  head  the  sheep 
homeward  at  the  first  sign  of  a  cloud  on  the 
northern  horizon. 

It  happened  that  the  day  following  would  be 
the  regular  day  for  renewing  the  provision  sup- 
ply at  Badger  Springs,  but  feeling  sure  that  a 
big  snow  was  imminent  I  debated  with  myself 
whether  I  had  not  better  run  over  there  at  once, 
finally  deciding  that,  as  there  were  as  yet  no 
visible  indications  of  the  coming  storm,  I  had 
better  do  so.  Accordingly,  immediately  after 
dinner,  I  put  a  load  of  provisions  into  the  two- 
wheeled  cart  and  drove  rapidly  away  to  Badger 
Springs  to  "  feed  the  camp."  Naturally,  I  was 
reluctant  to  go,  but  I  knew  that  Juan  Vigil's 
stock  must  be  getting  low,  and  that  when  the 
snow  did  come  there  was  no  telling  how  soon  I 
should  be  able  to  get  there.  The  worse  the 
weather,  too,  the  more  necessary  it  was  that  Juan 
should  be  well  provided.  I  might  have  asked 
Stock  to  go,  or  I  might  have  sent  Hidalgo,  but  I 
w^anted  to  make  sure  that  things  were  all  right 
and  to  warn  the  herder  of  the  approaching 
storm,  and  so  I  thought  I  ought  to  go  myself. 

Away  I  went  therefore  and  presently  arriving 


The  Great  November  Storm         151 

at  the  camp  I  hurriedly  transferred  my  load  to 
Juan's  provision-box.  Then,  jumping  into  the 
cart  again,  I  drove  off  northward  to  look  for 
Juan  himself.  It  was  a  great  relief  to  find  that 
the  herder  understood  his  business  :  like  all  the 
padre's  proteges,  he  was  a  good  man.  He  had 
*'  sensed "  the  coming  storm  somehow,  and  I 
found  him  not  more  than  a  mile  from  camp  with 
his  flock  in  a  shallow  draw  which  led  straight 
back  to  the  corral. 

Seeing  that  he  needed  no  warning,  after  a  few 
words  I  drove  away  again.  As  I  reached  the  top 
of  the  gentle  slope  which  bordered  the  draw,  I 
naturally  cast  a  glance  northward.  To  my 
alarm,  the  whole  line  of  the  horizon  had  become 
thick  and  lowering  ! 

Stopping  my  pony,  I  stood  up  in  the  cart  and 
shouted  to  Juan,  waving  my  arm  to  him  to  get 
his  sheep  back  to  the  corral.  The  Mexican  un- 
derstood at  once.  I  saw  him  run  to  turn  the 
flock,  and  satisfied  that  he  was  all  right  I  set  off 
at  a  rapid  trot  for  home,  every  now  and  then 
casting  an  anxious  glance  behind  me. 

The  more  I  looked  the  more  alarmed  I  became. 
The  cloud  was  coming  down  upon  me  with  fear- 
ful rapidity ;  it  seemed  to  sweep  the  earth,  blot- 


152  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

ting  out  everything  as  it  advanced.  "  Get  up  !  " 
I  shouted  ;  and  the  good  little  pony,  seeming  to 
understand  the  need  of  haste,  broke  into  a 
gallop. 

By  the  time  I  reached  the  corner  of  the  home 
fence  the  northern  sky  was  half  obscured,  and  as 
I  jumped  down  to  open  the  gate  the  first  big  wet 
dab  of  snow  struck  me  behind  the  ear.  With- 
out waiting  to  shut  the  gate,  I  sprang  into  the 
cart  again,  galloped  down  to  the  horse-corral, 
where  in  two  seconds  I  unhitched  the  pony,  and 
leaving  him  still  harnessed,  I  ran  to  the  house. 

My  mother  was  standing  on  the  porch  looking 
out  for  me.  Her  face  expressed  her  anxiety  as 
she  said  : 

"  Jamie,  this  is  going  to  be  a  very  bad  one, 
I'm  afraid.  Stock  has  gone  off  to  help  Lopez 
with  the  ewe  flock,  and  Hidalgo  to  help  Quin- 
tano  with  the  wethers." 

"  Good  !  "  I  exclaimed.     "  How  long  ago  ?  " 
"  About  twenty  minutes,  I  should  think." 
''  Good  !  "  said  I  again.     "  Then  I'll  be  off  too." 
"Take    care  of    yourself,   Jamie.     Don't  get 
lost.     This    is   going  to  be  a   dangerous  storm. 
Take  care  of  yourself" 

*'  I  will,"  I  shouted  in  reply  as  I  ran  off. 


The  Great  November  Storm         153 

The  snow,  in  large  flakes,  was  corning  down 
pretty  thickly  by  this  time,  but  as  yet  it  was  not 
very  serious.  The  moment  I  reached  the  top  of 
the  hill,  however,  I  stopped  aghast,  for  through 
the  veil  of  snow  I  could  see  the  real  storm,  close 
at  hand,  sweeping  down  upon  me  like  a  moving 
wall.  I  was  scared.  Not  for  myself — I  could 
get  home  all  right — but  for  the  four  men  and 
the  two  flocks  whom  I  knew  to  be  out  there 
somewhere  in  the  midst  of  it.  My  mother  was 
right :  this  was  going  to  be  a  dangerous  one. 

All  this  went  through  my  head  like  a  flash ; 
and  like  a  flash  the  storm  was  upon  me.  In- 
stinctively, I  turned  my  back  and  squatted  upon 
the  ground.  Whew  !  What  a  blast  was  that 
first  one  !  The  snow,  no  longer  in  large  flakes, 
but  small  and  hard,  swept  past  me  in  horizontal 
lines,  and  so  thick  was  it  near  the  ground  that  I 
actually  had  difficulty  in  breathing.  This, 
though,  was  due  to  the  drift  snow  which,  scour- 
ing over  the  surface  of  the  plain,  could  find  no 
lodgment ;  for  on  rising  to  my  feet  again  1 
found  it  was  not  nearly  so  thick.  It  was  thick 
enough,  however,  in  all  conscience,  for  though  I 
was  standing  within  ten  feet  of  the  fence  which 
divided  the  little  horse  pasture  from  the  hay- 


154  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

bottom,  not  a  sign  of  it  could  I  see.  To  make 
sure  of  my  bearings,  I  took  a  few  steps  towards 
it  and  came  against  the  wire  before  I  saw  it. 
This  fence,  I  knew,  ran  due  north  and  south, 
and  knowing  that,  I  knew  also  that  the  storm 
was  coming  straight  from  the  north.  Turn- 
ing my  face  square  to  the  wind,  therefore, 
I  plunged  forward  into  the  blinding  swirl  of 
snow. 

From  the  house  to  the  outside  fence — that  one 
around  which  we  had  plowed  the  first  fire-guard 
— was  a  short  half-mile,  yet  it  took  me  nearly 
half  an  hour  to  get  there.  The  bottom  wire  had 
been  pulled  loose  and  propped  up  to  allow  the 
sheep  to  pass  in  and  out,  and  stooping  down  I 
crept  under  it.  As  I  rose  to  my  feet  I  heard  a 
shout  a  short  distance  away,  and  the  next  in- 
stant I  found  myself  suddenly  surrounded  by 
sheep.     It  was  the  ewe  flock  ! 

I  stood  quiet  to  let  them  pass,  and  then 
shouted  :     ''  Hallo,  Stock  !     Are  you  there  ?  " 

"Hallo,  Jamie!  That  you?"  came  a  voice 
out  of  the  storm.  "  Yes,  we  are  here  all  right, 
Albino  and  I." 

"  Seen  anything  of  the  others  ?  " 

''  No.     They  are  off  to  the  right  somewhere — 


HALLO,     STOCK!    ARE    YOU    THERE'' 


The  Great  November  Storm        155 

westward.  Hidalgo  went  to  help  Quintano. 
What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

I  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  shouted  in 
reply  :  ''  I'll  go  down  with  you.  You'll  have 
difficulty  in  getting  the  sheep  into  the  corral." 

The  corral  gates,  like  all  sheep-corral  gates, 
faced  southward,  and  the  difficulty  I  anticipated 
would  be  in  getting  the  sheep  to  turn  the  cor- 
ner and  for  a  brief  moment  face  the  storm  as 
they  ran  through  the  gate.  If  they  once  drifted 
past  the  corral  they  were  lost — we  should  never 
get  them  back. 

It  happened  just  as  I  expected.  As  we 
approached  the  corrals  we  all  ran  forward  to  head 
the  sheep  through  the  gate,  but  try  as  we  might, 
the  foolish  things  would  not  turn  the  corner. 
They  were  close  at  home  and  they  knew  it,  yet, 
rather  than  face  the  blast  for  a  moment,  they 
would  have  stood  all  night  huddled  against  the 
outside  of  the  fence  or  else  have  drifted  on  to 
their  destruction  before  the  storm.  For  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  they  remained  thus  immovable, 
till  at  last,  to  our  relief,  one  old  ewe  made  a  rush 
through  the  gate  and  in  another  minute  the 
whole  flock  was  safe  in  the  sheds. 

And  now,  what  next  ? 


156  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

It  rested  with  me  to  decide,  of  course,  and 
after  a  brief  consultation  under  shelter  of  the 
sheds,  I  said  : 

'*  I  must  get  back  to  the  outer  fence.  The 
other  flock  must  have  come  at  least  that  far  by 
this  time — they  ought  to  be  here  now.  If  I 
don't  see  or  hear  anything  of  them  I  will  work 
westward  along  the  north  fence  of  the  hay- 
bottom  on  the  chance  that  they  have  drifted 
against  it  and  refuse  to  come  on.  Will  you 
come  with  me,  Stock,  or " 

"  Of  course  I'll  come  with  you,"  Stock  inter- 
rupted. "  You'll  need  my  help  if — when  you 
do  find  them." 

That  accidental  "if"  of  Stock's  hit  me  hard, 
for  it  showed  me  that  he  shared  the  fear  that 
already  weighed  upon  me — that  we  might  not 
find  the  flock  at  all.  Their  not  having  come 
down  yet  looked  bad. 

"  Come  on,  then,"  said  I.  "  We'll  get  across 
the  little  horse-pasture  and  follow  the  dividing- 
fence  northward." 

It  was  well  we  did  this.  If  we  had  tried  it 
without  a  guide  we  should  probably  have  lost 
ourselves  inside  the  enclosure  and  wandered 
about   for   an    indefinite    time  until  we  struck 


The  Great  November  Storm         157 

some  fence  somewhere ;  for  as  it  was,  though 
the  Httle  horse-pasture  was  only  a  hundred 
yards  across,  we  found  ourselves  fifty  yards 
south  of  the  point  we  had  been  making  for 
when  we  did  reach  the  fence.  With  a  storm 
like  that  beating  against  one  side  of  your  face, 
it  is  hardly  possible  to  hold  a  straight  course. 

Keeping  close  to  this  fence,  and  working  our 
way  northward  one  behind  the  other,  we  at 
length  reached  the  main  north  fence,  and  there 
we  stopped  and  listened.  Not  a  sound  was  to 
be  heard,  save  only  the  continuous  "  siss-s-s  "  of 
the  snow  driving  through  the  grass  at  our  feet. 
It  would  be  little  use  to  shout,  for  how  could 
one's  voice  carry  against  that  wind  and  through 
that  curtain  of  snow?  Nevertheless,  shout  we 
did,  when,  all  unexpectedly  and  to  our  intense 
delight  there  came  an  answering  yell  from 
somewhere  close  by. 

The  next  moment,  out  of  the  swirling  maze 
there  stepped  the  herder,  Jose  Quintano — 
alone ! 

Never  in  m}^  life  before  had  I  received  such  a 
shock !  Where  were  the  sheep  ?  Where  was 
little  Hidalgo  ? 

As  Quintano  stumbled  forward — for  he  was 


158  Dale  and   Eraser,  Sheepmen 

nearly  exhausted — he  saw  the  question  in  my 
eyes  and  replied  aloud,  *'  I  do  not  know,  senor. 
The  sheep  is  lost ;  and  Hidalgo,  I  do  not  know 
where  he  is." 

He  dropped  his  hands  despairingly  as  he 
spoke,  and  looked  at  me  with  an  appealing 
gaze,  as  though  he  expected  me  to  upbraid  him. 
But  I  was  far  from  feeling  anger  :  he  was  not 
responsible  for  Hidalgo's  safety,  and  as  for  the 
sheep,  I  knew  he  was  not  the  man  to  have  lost 
them  without  good  reason. 

"  How  was  it,  Jose?  "  I  asked. 

Then,  as  we  stood  with  our  backs  to  the  storm 
and  our  heads  close  together,  Quintano  told  his 
story. 

"  When  I  see  the  cloud  coming,"  said  he,  "  I 
start  the  sheep  homeward,  but  it  come  down  so 
quick  that  it  is  snowing  before  I  am  half  way. 
Just  before  it  begin  I  see  long  way  off  some  one 
running  to  me.  It  is  Hidalgo.  But  the  snow 
come  and  I  see  him  no  more  again. 

"  Then,  very  quick,  there  come  the  big  storm 
— Bang !  I  cannot  see  the  head  of  my  flock, 
only  those  behind,  close  by.  The  wind  strike 
the  sheep  a  little  on  the  left ;  they  edge  away  to 
the  right.     I  run  round  and  try  to  push  them 


The  Great  November  Storm         159 

back.  Pretty  soon  the  hollow  places  is  full  of 
snow.  I  fall  in  one  and  roll  down  hill.  I  am 
up  again  and  run  forward.  The  flock  is  gone ! 
I  run  this  way  and  that  way.  No  sheep !  I 
stop  to  think  ;  then  I  run  again.  No  sheep ! 
I  cannot  see  ten  feet,  but  again  I  run  this 
way  and  that  way.  No  sheep — the  flock  is 
lost! 

*'  I  shout,  but "     He  made  a  motion  with 

his  hands,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  What  good  is 
that?" 

"  After  long  time — I  do  not  know  how  long — I 
come  against  the  corner  of  the  fence.  I  stop  again 
to  think.  If  the  sheep  is  gone  past  the  corner 
— southward — it  is  no  use  to  look  for  them  any 
more.  If  they  have  not  passed  the  corner  I  will 
find  them  against  the  fence.  I  come  all  along 
by  the  fence — no  sheep  I  The  flock  is  gone 
south  ;  it  is  lost !  " 

After  a  minute's  silence,  I  said  :  "  Let's  get 
home.  There's  nothing  more  to  be  done.  It  is 
no  use  trying  to  find  the  sheep  in  this  storm  ; 
still  less  Hidalgo.  If  he  isn't  in  the  cabin  now, 
I'm  afraid " 

There  was  no  need  to  say  more  :  they  all  knew 
what  I  feared.     Almost  every  winter  one  hears 


i6o         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

of  a  herder  in  one  part  of  the  country  or  another 
who  has  been  caught  out  and  a  few  days  later 
found  dead, 

"  Is  there  nothing  to  be  done  ? "  asked 
Stock. 

"  Not  a  thing,"  I  replied,  looking  to  the  two 
experienced  herders  for  confirmation,  both  of 
whom  shook  their  heads.  "  If  Hidalgo  had 
driven  against  the  fence  he  would  be  home  by 
now.  If  he  missed  the  fence,  as  I  fear,  there's 
no  knowing  where  he  is.  It  would  be  useless  to 
look  for  him — worse  than  useless  :  suicidal.  It 
is  bad  enough  as  it  is  ;  no  need  to  make  it 
worse.     No  ;  there's  nothing  to  be  done." 

Hidalgo  was  not  in  the  cabin — I  had  not  ex- 
pected that  he  would  be— so,  feeling  thoroughly 
depressed  and  miserable,  we  made  our  way  to 
the  house,  where  my  mother  who  had  been 
listening  for  us,  let  us  in. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  asked  inquiringly.  And  then, 
after  glancing  at  our  faces,  she  added  quickly, 
"What  is  it?" 

I  could  not  answer.  At  the  thought  of 
the  little  Mexican  out  all  by  himself  in  that 
horrible  storm  I  felt  sick.  It  was  Stock  who 
replied : 


The  Great  November  Storm         i6i 

"  The  two  herders  and  the  ewe  flock  are  in  ; 

but  the  wethers  are  out,  and  Hidalgo " 

"Well?" 

"  Hidalgo  is  out." 


CHAPTER  X 

Hidalgo  Saves  the  Wethee  Flock 

A  BOUT  the  time  that  I  started  on  my  race 
-^^^  homeward  from  Badger  Springs  that  day, 
Stock  ascended  the  hill  behind  the  house  to  look 
at  the  sky.  He  had  done  so  twice  before  during 
my  absence,  finding  everything  serene,  but  this 
time,  the  moment  he  crested  the  rise,  his  pulses 
gave  a  jump,  for  across  the  whole  breadth  of  the 
northern  horizon  and  already  high  above  it  was 
stretched  a  thick  gray  curtain  of  cloud. 

Instantly  turning  round,  he  ran  back  to  the 
house  for  his  overcoat,  shouting  as  he  ran  for 
Hidalgo.  The  boy  was  in  the  stable,  but  he 
heard  the  shout,  and  popping  his  head  out  of 
the  window  he  called  back,  "  I  am  here,  seiior." 

"  Get  your  coat,"  shouted  Stock,  "  it's  com- 
ing !  " 

There  was  no  need  to  explain  what  was  com- 
ing, nor  did  Hidalgo  wait  to  ask.  He  ran  to  the 
cabin  and  in  a  moment  reappeared  with  his 
gloves  in  his  mouth,  working  himself  into  his 
overcoat  as  he  hurried  up  the  hill. 
162 


Hildalgo  Saves  the  Wether  Flock     163 

Stock  had  the  start  of  him,  and  Hidalgo,  see- 
ing that  he  was  making  due  north  for  the  ewe 
flock,  himself  diverged  a  little  to  the  left,  know- 
ing that  the  wethers  had  gone  out  northwest- 
ward. 

So  rapidly  did  the  cloud  advance  that  hardly 
ten  minutes  had  elapsed  since  they  started  ere 
the  first  flakes  of  snow  began  to  fall,  and  soon 
the  pair  were  hidden  from  each  other's  view. 
Hidalgo,  however,  had  already  caught  sight  of 
Quintano  in  the  distance  and  he  succeeded  in 
keeping  his  line  pretty  well  until  presently  the 
full  fury  of  the  blizzard  struck  him,  whirling 
him  round  and  throwing  him  down  upon  his 
hands  and  knees. 

In  this  position  for  a  few  seconds  he  remained, 
gasping  for  breath  in  the  smother  of  snow  which 
whirled  along  the  ground,  unable  to  recover  his 
feet ;  for  he  was  a  light  weight  and  he  was  more- 
over somewhat  hampered  by  his  rather  volumi- 
nous overcoat. 

At  length  he  staggered  to  his  feet  again,  and 
turning  his  back  to  the  storm  he  paused  for  a 
moment  to  get  his  breath  and  to  reflect.  Should 
he  go  on  or  should  he  go  back  ?  Boy  though 
he  was,  he  knew  well  enough  the  danger  of  be- 


164         Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

ing  caught  out  in  a  blizzard  ;  he  knew  too  that 
by  going  straight  down  wind  he  would  presently 
come  against  the  fence  and  that  with  the  fence 
for  a  guide  he  could  get  home  all  right.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  was  Quintano  somewhere  close 
by,  doubtless  much  in  need  of  help. 

Hidalgo  did  not  take  long  to  decide.  He  had 
come  out  to  bring  in  the  wether  flock  and  he 
was  not  going  to  give  up  at  the  first  rebuff. 
The  chances  of  meeting  the  flock  were  slight 
enough,  but  at  least  he  would  make  a  try,  so, 
turning  round,  he  faced  the  storm  again,  and 
verging  slightly  to  his  left — the  w^ind  his  only 
guide — he  set  out  anew.  Every  now  and  then 
he  stopped  to  shout — though  he  knew  well 
enough  how  useless  that  would  be  unless  Quin- 
tano should  happen  to  pass  within  twenty  yards 
of  him — listening  eagerly  for  an  answering  call. 
But  no  answering  call  came,  so  on  he  went. 

How  long  he  had  kept  going  there  is  no  tell- 
ing, an  hour  perhaps,  perhaps  only  half  an 
hour — for  time  moves  slowly  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. At  any  rate  he  presently  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  he  had  missed  the  flock  and 
that  to  search  further  was  useless. 

Pleased  to  think  that  he  had  done  his  best, 


Hidalgo  Saves  the  Wether  Flock     165 

and  not  sorry  that  he  might  now  turn  home- 
ward with  a  clear  conscience,  Hidalgo  set  his 
back  to  the  wind  and  trotted  straight  before  it, 
having  no  doubt  that  he  would  shortly  arrive  at 
the  long  east-and-west  fence  of  the  home  place. 
He  was  glad  to  think  that  another  hour  would 
bring  him  home,  for  it  had  been  hard  work 
forcing  his  way  against  the  wind,  and  while  he 
was  not  cold,  in  spite  of  anything  he  could  do  the 
fine  snow  had  insinuated  itself  under  his  clothes 
— he  could  feel  a  wet  patch  or  two  against  his 
skin. 

All  this  time,  of  course,  he  could  see  nothing. 
His  horizon  was  limited  to  a  scant  ten  or  twelve 
feet  in  every  direction,  bounded  on  all  sides  by 
the  hurrying  snowflakes ;  and  no  matter  how 
far  he  advanced  his  horizon  advanced  with  him, 
it  was  always  the  same ;  his  feet  moved,  but  for 
all  he  could  see  he  might  have  been  standing 
still.  Nevertheless  he  trotted  along,  full  of  con- 
fidence that  he  would  presently  come  upon  the 
looked-for  fence. 

But  Hidalgo  had  made  a  serious  miscalcula- 
tion. In  forcing  his  way  against  the  storm, 
with  the  snow  beating  like  driving  sand  against 
the  right  side  of  his  face,  he  had  unconsciously 


1 66         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

edged  away  farther  and  farther  towards  the  left, 
so  that  when  he  turned  and  went  straight  back 
with  the  wind  the  line  he  followed  carried  him 
westward  of  the  fence  corner. 

How  long  he  had  been  going  he  never  could 
tell  when  at  length  the  petrifying  thought  struck 
him  that  he  had  missed  the  fence — that  he  was 
lost !  His  heart  dropped  into  his  boots  ;  as  well 
it  might. 

As  is  so  often  the  case  with  a  man  who  sud- 
denly discovers  that  he  is  lost,  Hidalgo's  first 
momentary  impulse  was  to  start  oflP  and  run,  no 
matter  in  what  direction  ;  but  fortunately  his 
good  sense  came  to  his  aid,  and  gathering  his 
faculties  he  stood  still  instead  to  try  to  think 
it  out. 

Knowing  the  lie  of  the  country,  he  remem- 
bered that,  unless  by  evil  chance  he  had  already 
crossed  it,  there  lay  before  him  a  shallow  draw, 
of  which  the  general  course  was  from  south- 
west to  northeast.  This  draw  led  down  to  the 
ranch,  and  if  he  could  get  into  it  he  might  yet 
reach  home  by  following  along  its  bed.  It  was 
exceedingly  crooked,  running  in  turn  towards 
every  point  of  the  compass,  the  easy  slope  of  its 
sides  being  in  general  undistinguishable  from 


Hidalgo  Saves  the  Wether  Flock     167 

those  of  a  thousand  other  hills.  In  some  few 
places,  however,  they  were  abrupt,  forming  little 
cliffs,  some  of  which  were  as  much  as  twenty 
feet  high,  cut  out  by  the  water  which  now  and 
then  ran  down  the  draw ;  for  though  it  was 
nearly  always  dry  there  would  come  days,  some- 
times two  or  three  in  one  season,  sometimes 
only  once  in  two  seasons,  when  a  heavy  thunder- 
storm would  send  a  rush  of  water  down  it.  It 
was  this  flood-water  which  had  scooped  out  the 
little  cliffs  at  the  sharp  bends. 

If  Hidalgo  should  come  upon  one  of  these 
miniature  precipices  he  would  know  where  he 
was ;  but  the  chances  of  his  happening  upon  one 
of  them  were  of  the  smallest,  as  he  well  knew. 
There  was,  however,  one  other  feature  peculiar 
to  the  draw,  due  also  to  the  flood-water,  and  this 
was  that  in  its  sandy  bed  there  grew  a  great 
quantity  of  a  short  yellow  weed,  which,  as  the 
boy  was  also  aware,  grew  nowhere  else  within  a 
radius  of  five  miles. 

Having  thought  out  all  this,  Hidalgo  advanced 
again,  his  chief  fear  now  being  lest  he  might  al- 
ready have  crossed  the  draw  without  recognizing 
it.  It  was  blind  groping,  but  every  time  his 
feet  told  him  that  he  had  come  to  the  bottom  of 


1 68  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

a  slope  he  kicked  aside  the  snow  and  examined 
the  ground  for  yellow  weeds.  Finding  none,  he 
would  go  forward  again,  climb  the  opposite 
slope,  descend  once  more,  and  once  more  search 
the  ground  for  yellow  weeds.  This  he  did  eight 
or  ten  times,  each  time  growing  more  and  more 
uneasy  with  the  apprehension  that  he  had  indeed 
gone  past  the  only  landmark  which  could  possibly 
guide  him  to  safety. 

At  length,  while  descending  a  rather  steeper 
slope  than  usual,  a  blast  of  extra  fury  caused 
him  to  throw  up  both  arms  before  his  face.  At 
the  same  instant,  unable  to  see  where  he  was 
going,  he  stepped  out  into  space,  and  falling 
prone  he  was  buried  for  the  moment  in  the 
snow.  As  he  rose  up  on  his  hands  and  knees 
something  soft  and  firm  touched  him  upon  his 
cheek.  With  a  sharp  exclamation  he  straight- 
ened up,  and  there,  its  nose  within  a  foot  of  his 
own,  stood  a  sheep  ! — a  black,  one-horned  sheep 
— Uncle  Remus,  the  fighting  wether  ! 

Never  in  his  life  had  Hidalgo  been  so  glad  to 
see  any  one  as  he  was  to  see  his  old  friend 
and  admirer,  Uncle  Remus.  Impulsivel}^  he 
clasped  him  round  the  neck  and  gave  him  a 
good  hug ;  a  demonstration  to  which  the  usu- 


Hidalgo  Saves  the  Wether  Flock     169 

ally  pugnacioas  sheep  submitted  with  a  good 
grace,  being  himself  undoubtedly  equally  glad 
to  see  Hidalgo. 

The  boy  sprang  to  his  feet.  All  about  him 
were  sheep,  crowded  close  together.  He  had 
tumbled  into  the  midst  of  the  wether  flock. 

But,  if  so,  where  was  Quintano  ?  Half  a 
dozen  times  he  shouted,  but  as  there  was  no 
answering  call  he  rightly  concluded  that  the 
herder  had  somehow  become  separated  from  his 
flock  and  was  now  either  wandering  in  the 
storm  or  had  found  his  way  home.  What,  then, 
was  he  to  do  himself? 

First  of  all  he  thrust  his  arm  into  the  drift, 
and  grasping  a  handful  of  the  herbage  beneath 
he  shook  it  free  of  snow.  Good !  The  yellow 
weeds  at  last !  So  it  was  into  the  long-sought 
draw  that  he  had  tumbled. 

But  whereabouts  in  the  draw  ?  How  far  from 
home  was  he  ? 

Looking  about,  he  thought  he  could  make  out 
a  dark  mass  looming  above  him  a  few  yards 
away,  and  stepping  forward,  he  found  as  he  had 
expected  that  he  was  standing  close  beside  one 
of  the  perpendicular  banks  already  mentioned 
as   being    characteristic   of   the   draw.     It   was 


170  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

eighteen  or  twenty  feet  high,  and  Hidalgo,  with 
good  reason,  congratulated  himself  that  he  had 
not  stepped  blindly  over  its  edge,  as  he  so  easily 
might  have  done. 

He  knew  now  where  he  was — scarcely  a  mile 
from  home  ;  though  to  get  the  sheep  to  traverse 
that  mile  he  was  well  aware  would  be  impossi- 
ble. 

In  the  first  place,  if  he  should  attempt  to 
drive  them  straight  home,  the  immediate  conse- 
quence would  be  that  they  would  turn  their  tails 
to  the  wind  and  drift  away  out  upon  the  open, 
shelterless  plain,  when  few,  if  any  perhaps,  would 
ever  be  recovered.  They  must  stick  to  the 
draw.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  to  get  the  sheep 
to  follow  the  draw  would  be  hopeless.  Hidalgo 
knew  that  just  beyond  the  cliff  its  crooked  bed 
turned  sharply  southward,  and  then  as  sharply 
northward.  This  would  bring  the  sheep  with 
their  faces  square  to  the  wind,  when  they  would 
instantly  become  unmanageable. 

The  best  he  could  do  would  be  to  move  the 
flock  forward  a  short  distance  to  the  comparative 
shelter  of  the  cliff;  and  this  he  immediately  set 
about  doing.  The  sheep  were  somewhat  un- 
willing to  stir,  some  even  were  already  lying 


Hidalgo  Saves  the  Wether  Flock     171 

down,  wearied  by  the  unaccustomed  weight  of 
snow  upon  their  backs,  but  the  boy,  bustling 
about  and  kicking  up  the  prostrate  ones,  soon 
had  the  whole  bunch  collected  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluff. 

Here  at  once  another  question  presented  it- 
self:  should  he  stay  with  the  sheep,  or  should 
he  try  to  get  home  himself? 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  reach  a  decision — 
he  would  stay  with  the  flock.  Should  he  leave 
them,  the  sheep  would  be  buried  deep  out  of 
sight  before  morning ;  though  this  by  itself 
might  not  be  very  disastrous,  for  sheep  will  live 
a  wonderfully  long  time  beneath  the  snow. 
But  many  of  them  would  lie  down,  when  others, 
according  to  their  strange  habit,  would  pile  up 
on  them  and  lying  down  too  would  smother 
those  beneath  ;  in  which  case  the  loss  might  be 
heavy  indeed.  As  to  the  danger  to  himself, 
Hidalgo  believed  that  it  was  perhaps  less  risky 
to  stay  than  to  go.  It  was  becoming  dark  by 
this  time,  and  to  successfully  follow  the  shallow 
draw  would  be  a  matter  of  exceeding  difficulty ; 
whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  by  staying  where 
he  was,  he  would  be  sheltered  from  the  direct 
fury  of  the  wind  and — a  matter  of  no  small  im- 


172  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

portance — he  would  have  the  sheep  for  com- 
pany. 

Hidalgo  decided  to  stay. 

It  was  a  fearful  night,  a  dreadful  night  for  any 
living  creature  to  be  out  in  ;  j^et  through  it  all, 
hour  after  hour,  hour  after  hour,  the  little  Mexi- 
can walked  up  and  down  and  to  and  fro  among  the 
sheep,  kicking  up  those  that  were  down  and  keep- 
ing the  whole  flock  continuously  stirring.  As 
time  passed  and  the  blackness  of  darkness  fell 
upon  him  the  work  became  harder  and  harder ; 
the  sheep,  weighted  by  snow,  grew  less  and  less 
willing  to  move,  and  more  and  more  inclined  to 
lie  down  and  give  in.  But  this  would  be  fatal 
— they  must  keep  moving — and  though  the  boy 
was  so  weary  he  could  hardly  stagger,  though 
time  and  again  falling  over  some  prostrate  sheep, 
it  seemed  to  him  impossible  to  get  up  again,  he 
kept  moving.  The  snow,  pouring  down  upon 
him  from  the  top  of  the  bluff  in  one  continuous 
billow,  was  whisked  this  way  and  that  by  de- 
flected currents  of  air,  sometimes  half  smother- 
ing him,  sometimes  scooped  up  and  whirled 
away  again  ;  and  through  it  all,  with  a  courage 
and  determination  any  grown  man  might  envy, 
the  boy  kept  moving  and  kept  moving. 


Hidalgo  Saves  the  Wether  Flock     173 

At  last  ! — there  came  a  change  !  With  the 
first  faint  glimmer  of  daylight  the  wind  sud- 
denly stopped  ;  then  as  suddenly  blew  strong 
from  the  west ;  then  back  again  to  the  north. 
Hidalgo's  heart  gave  a  great  jump ;  the  very 
sheep  lifted  their  heads — they  knew  the  sign  : 
the  storm  had  broken. 

In  half  an  hour  more  the  wind  had  died 
down,  scarcely  any  snow  was  falling,  and  by  the 
increased  light  Hidalgo  could  take  in  his  situa- 
tion. The  better  he  was  able  to  see,  the  better 
was  he  pleased  to  think  that  he  had  stayed  with 
the  sheep.  The  snowfall  had  been  tremendous. 
All  about  him  the  drifts  were  heaped  up  like  the 
waves  of  the  ocean,  ten  feet  and  even  twenty 
feet  high.  He  was  down  in  the  bottom  of  a  pit 
whose  walls  were  piled-up  drifts  and  whose  floor 
was  hard-packed  snow,  trodden  to  the  consistency 
of  ice  by  the  sharp  little  hoofs  of  the  ever-mov- 
ing flock. 

When,  about  an  hour  later,  after  a  night  of 
such  anxiety  as  I  hope  never  to  pass  again,  Stock 
and  I  and  the  two  herders  found  him,  we  came 
upon  a  sight  none  of  us  is  likely  to  forget.  There 
in  the  bottom  of  the  great  snow-pit  were  all  the 


174  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

sheep  gathered  closely  about  Hidalgo,  who,  sit- 
ting with  his  back  against  the  bluff,  his  mouth- 
organ  at  his  lips,  was  playing  '*  Wait  till  the 
clouds  roll  by,"  with  equal  enthusiasm  and  inac- 
curacy. 

What  need  to  tell  of  our  meeting?  Our 
thankfulness  and  relief  of  mind  were  only  to  be 
measured  by  the  anxiety  we  had  suffered.  The 
one  least  affected,  I  think,  was  Hidalgo  himself 

A  passage  was  dug  through  the  drifts,  the 
sheep  run  through  and  counted  out.  The  tally 
was  complete ;  not  one  was  missing.  Hidalgo 
had  set  out  to  bring  in  the  wether  flock — and  he 
had  done  it  I 


CHAPTER  XI 

Gathering  the  Wreckage 

"  TT  was  a  remarkable  performance/'  said  my 
J-  father,  who  had  hurried  home  at  the  first 
news  of  the  storm,  "  a  really  remarkable  per- 
formance for  such  a  youngster.  Indeed  not 
many  grown  men  would  have  shown  such  cour- 
age, coolness  and  judgment.  The  good  padre 
said  none  too  much  when  he  described  him  as  a 
faithful  worker.  We  must  keep  an  eye  on  that 
boy  ;  he  is  not  to  be  lost  sight  of.  I  shall  raise 
his  wages  five  dollars." 

Hidalgo  was  naturally  much  pleased  at  this 
unexpected  increase  of  pay,  accepting  it  with 
modest  gratefulness,  as  though  quite  unaware 
that  his  exploit  had  been  anything  out  of  the 
common  ;  though  what  pleased  him  far  more  was 
my  father's  promise  that  he  would  write  to  the 
good  padre  and  tell  him  how  well  his  little  friend 
had  acquitted  himself 

For  ourselves,  if  we  had  needed  confirmation 
175 


176  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

of  our  opinion  that  Hidalgo  had  deserved  well 
of  us,  we  had  it  in  abundance  when  during  the 
following  week  the  reports  began  to  come  in  of 
losses  sustained  by  our  neighbors.  Almost  all 
had  suffered  to  some  extent ;  two  or  three  of 
them  pretty  seriously.  The  Stephensons,  for  in- 
stance, had  a  flock  caught  out,  a  large  part  of 
which  was  never  recovered ;  while  the  herder, 
after  drifting  for  miles  before  the  storm,  had  be- 
come crazed,  for,  when  found,  he  had  thrown 
away  his  overcoat  and  was  carrying  his  shoes  in 
his  hand,  his  frozen  feet  being  filled  with  cactus 
spines.  Wonderful  to  relate,  this  man  recovered. 
Not  so  two  other  unfortunates,  one  to  the  north- 
west of  us  and  the  other  thirty  miles  east. 
They,  poor  fellows,  perished  miserably,  one  of 
them  not  being  found  till  a  month  later,  when, 
together  with  sixty  dead  sheep,  he  was  dug  out 
of  a  big  drift. 

It  was  stories  like  these  which  illustrated  the 
fearful  risk  our  little  Mexican  had  run  that  night. 

Among  the  losers  was  our  northern  neighbor. 
Draper.  My  father  brought  the  news  of  it  from 
town  when  he  drove  home  that  next  morning, 
and  the  first  thing  he  did  after  hearing  our 
story  was  to  despatch  Stock  and  me  on  horse- 


Gathering  the  Wreckage  177 

back  to  see  if  we  could  not  gather  up  some  of 
the  strays. 

*'  I  must  ride  over  to  the  eastern  camp  my- 
self," said  he,  "  to  see  how  the  two  Juans  came 
through,  and  then  on  to  Badger  Springs.  You 
haven't  turned  out  the  flocks  yet,  I  see,  but 
they  might  as  well  go ;  the  hollows  are  full  of 
snow,  but  the  hills  are  bare.  Tell  Quintano  to 
go  north  again  to-day.  The  storm  is  over,  I 
think,  but  we'll  send  the  sheep  north  this  morn- 
ing, anyhow.  Then  you  two  boys  get  your 
ponies  and  help  Draper  hunt  his  strays — you  are 
likely  to  find  a  good  many  along  our  north 
fence — any  you  find,  bring  them  in  and  pen 
them  in  the  invalid  corral.  Thank  goodness, 
Draper's  sheep  are  clean  !  He's  a  good  neigh- 
bor ;  we  must  do  what  we  can  for  him." 

My  father  had  reason  to  thank  goodness  that 
Draper's  sheep  were  clean  ;  otherwise  the  storm 
might  have  brought  disaster  upon  us  even  after 
it  was  all  over.  For  there  is  one  possible  conse- 
quence of  a  blizzard  which  the  sheepman  fears 
almost  as  much  as  the  storm  itself,  and  that  is 
the  dissemination  of  that  dreaded  scourge,  the 
scab,  from  stray  sheep. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  how  an  infected  flock, 


178         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

scattered  far  and  wide  over  the  range,  may  work 
mischief  incalculable,  for  one  such  sheep  will 
contaminate  a  thousand.  It  is  easy  to  under- 
stand, too,  how  any  sheepman  who  may  happen 
to  have  to  the  north  of  him  a  neighbor  with  a 
scabby  flock  will  keep  a  very  sharp  lookout  after 
a  storm.  Should  a  stray  be  discovered  in  the 
flock  it  will  be  instantly  caught  and  examined, 
when  the  detection  of  a  suspicion  of  scab  will 
prove  its  death-warrant :  no  matter  whose  it  may 
be,  it  will  be  forthwith  killed  and  buried.  Per- 
haps it  will  have  been  caught  in  time — perhaps 
not.  Perhaps  the  anxious  watcher  a  week  or 
two  later  will  turn  cold  and  grind  his  teeth  as  he 
notes  that  ominous  sign  so  well  known  to  all 
sheepmen  :  a  sheep  scrubbing  the  root  of  its  tail 
against  a  post,  or  trying  to  bite  itself  between  the 
shoulders  ;  for  he  realizes  that  the  evil  has  been 
done  ;  that  he  has  before  him  weeks — or  months 
— of  work,  worry  and  expense  before  his  flock 
shall  be  clean  again. 

We  had  none  of  this  to  fear  from  Draper's 
sheep,  fortunately,  and  it  was  with  cordial  good 
will  that  Stock  and  I  rode  off*  to  try  to  gather  up 
some  of  his  strays  for  him.  As  my  father  had 
predicted,  we  found  a  large  number  stranded 


Gathering  the  Wreckage  179 

along  our  north  fence — one  hundred  and  seventy 
of  them — and  having  driven  them  in,  we  started 
again. 

In  a  couple  of  hours  we  had  gathered  up 
about  forty  more,  scattered  in  ones  and  twos  and 
threes  far  and  wide  over  the  plain,  when,  gazing 
all  around  through  my  field-glass  in  the  hope  of 
spying  out  others,  I  saw,  far  away  to  the  south, 
a  coyote  trotting  straight  towards  us.  The  wind 
was  blowing  gently  from  the  north,  and  the 
co^^ote  was  coming  straight  up-wind,  traveling 
down  one  hill  and  up  the  next  with  such  steady 
perseverance  that  I  felt  sure  he  had  some  set 
purpose  in  his  mind. 

Calling  to  my  companion,  I  handed  him  the 
glass,  saying : 

"  Take  a  look  at  that  coyote.  Stock.  What  do 
you  suppose  he's  up  to  ?  " 

Stock  watched  the  animal  for  some  time,  and 
then,  handing  back  the  glass,  replied  :  ''  He's 
evidently  out  on  business.  He's  following  his 
nose  as  straight  as  a  line,  and  I  expect  his  nose 
tells  him  there  is  mutton  to  be  had  up  in  this 
direction.  Perhaps  it  is  this  little  bunch  we 
have  gathered  ;  perhaps  there  are  sheep  between 
us  and  him.     Let's  ride  to  meet  him." 


i8o         Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

It  so  happened  that  when  we  started  the 
coyote  was  out  of  sight  in  a  hollow,  and  it  also 
happened  that  each  time  he  was  on  a  hill  we 
were  in  a  hollow,  so  that  w^e  did  not  catch  a 
glimpse  of  him  again  until,  suddenly,  on  reach- 
ing the  crown  of  a  long  rise,  we  came  face  to 
face  with  him  on  top  of  a  hill  just  opposite, 
when,  at  sight  of  us,  he  instantly  turned  tail 
and  ran  off  in  the  direction  whence  he  had  come. 

But  the  movements  of  the  coyote  interested  us 
no  more  ;  we  discovered  that  he  had  unwittingly 
done  us  an  inestimable  service. 

Below  us  in  the  hollow  was  a  wide-spread, 
hummocky  drift  of  snow  about  half  an  acre  in 
extent.  Between  it  and  us  eight  or  ten  sheep 
were  quietly  feeding,  which,  when  we  suddenly 
appeared  above  them,  ran  together  and  stared  at 
us.  At  the  same  moment  a  dozen  other  sheep 
which  had  been  lying  around  the  edge  of  the 
drift,  half  buried,  sprang  up  and  joined  their 
companions. 

"  Stock,"  said  I,  "  we've  got  a  day's  work  be- 
fore us.  If  I'm  not  mistaken,  that  drift  is  full 
of  sheep." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder.  Come  on.  We'll  soon 
find  out." 


Gathering  the  Wreckage  i8i 

Jumping  from  our  ponies,  we  forthwith  waded 
hip-deep  into  the  drift,  when  Stock,  more  im- 
petuous than  I,  ahnost  immediately  went  a 
header  into  the  snow,  disappearing  from  sight 
entirely.  But  the  laugh  with  which  I  greeted 
this  accident  was  turned  into  an  exclamation  of 
"  Good !  "  when  he  presently  emerged  again 
with  a  sheep,  all  alive  and  kicking,  in  his 
hands. 

Then  began  in  earnest  one  of  the  hardest  day's 
work  I  ever  experienced.  The  only  way  of 
finding  a  sheep  was  by  kicking  against  it ;  the 
next  thing  being  to  reach  down  into  the  snow, 
drag  it  to  the  surface,  clasp  it  to  your  chest  with 
your  arms  under  its  fore-legs,  and  thus  wade 
through  the  drift  and  set  it  down  ;  when,  with- 
out a  sign  of  gratitude,  it  would  walk  off  and 
begin  to  feed  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 
Stock,  though,  was  not  content  to  carry  out  one 
at  a  time.  Having  found  a  sheep,  he  would  set 
it  down  behind  him  in  his  track,  hunt  up  an- 
other, and  then,  with  a  sheep  under  each  arm, 
"wade  ashore."  It  saved  time,  he  explained; 
which  doubtless  it  did,  though  for  me,  one 
sheep  at  a  trip  was  all  I  cared  to  attempt.  This 
was  tremendous  labor,  as  will  be  imagined,  but 


1 82  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

after  a  time  it  became  no  longer  necessary  to 
carry  them  out.  Our  frequent  going  to  and  fro 
had  made  good  trails  in  which  we  could  set  the 
sheep,  when  a  kick  behind  was  sufficient  to 
make  them  struggle  out  for  themselves. 

About  noon  I  jumped  upon  my  pony  and  gal- 
loped home  to  get  some  dinner  for  myself  and 
to  bring  back  some  for  Stock.  There  I  found  my 
father,  who,  on  hearing  of  our  find,  put  old  Bony 
into  the  cart  and  drove  back  with  me.  On  our 
way,  we  saw  in  the  distance  a  horseman,  whom, 
on  examining  him  through  the  glass,  I  recog- 
nized as  Draper  himself.  Him  we  signaled,  and 
soon  he  galloped  up  to  us. 

"What  luck.  Draper?"  called  out  my  father 
to  him. 

'*  Mighty  poor,"  replied  the  sheepman,  whose 
face  plainly  showed  his  anxiety.  "  I've  gathered 
up  forty  or  fifty,  and  my  two  herders  who  are 
out  hunting  also  will  pick  up  some,  no  doubt ; 
but  what  is  that  out  of  fifteen  hundred  ?  It's 
hit  me  a  hard  lick  this  time,  Fraser." 

"  Well,  I've  good  news  for  you,  neighbor. 
We've  picked  up  a  couple  of  hundred  or  more, 
and  what's  better,  the  boys  believe  they've  found 
the  main  flock  snowed  under  in  a  hollow  down 


Gathering   the  Wreckage  183 

here.  They've  been  working  on  them  all  morn- 
ing ;  they've  pulled  out  lots  of  them,  and  now 
that  there  are  four  of  us  we'll  have  'em  all  out 
before  night." 

It  was  good  to  see  the  poor  man's  face 
brighten.  He  was  a  man  who,  with  little  else 
but  good  sense  and  a  strong  body  by  way  of  cap- 
ital, had  by  fifteen  years  of  hard  work  and  sober 
living  gathered  together  a  flock  of  five  thousand 
sheep,  and  to  him  the  loss  of  a  thousand  head 
or  so  would  be  a  disaster  of  the  first  magnitude. 
No  wonder,  then,  that  his  face  cleared  at  the 
good  news  we  brought  him. 

Stock  was  still  hard  at  it  when  we  arrived,  his 
coat  off"  and  his  body  steaming  in  spite  of  the 
cold  snow. 

"  Great  fellow,  that !  "  exclaimed  Draper,  ad- 
miringly ;  and  without  more  ado,  in  he  plunged 
himself. 

Before  sunset  that  evening  there  was  not  a 
square  inch  of  the  big  drift  that  had  not  been 
broken  up,  it  was  criss-crossed  with  tracks  in 
every  direction.  That  there  was  not  a  sheep 
left  below  the  surface  we  were  convinced.  Even 
Draper  himself  was  satisfied  ;  and  well  he  might 
be,  for  we  had  pulled  out  nine  hundred  and 


184  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

eighty-eight  live  sheep  and  only  eleven  dead 
ones — a  grand  day's  work  ! 

Altogether,  with  those  we  had  already  picked 
up,  with  those  he  and  his  herders  recovered,  and 
with  the  twenty  or  thirty  which  drifted  into  our 
flocks  during  the  following  week,  our  good  neigh- 
bor's loss  amounted  only  to  about  forty  sheep — 
a  result  for  which  thanks  were  mainly  due  to 
that  coyote. 

The  rest  of  that  winter  passed  without  note- 
worthy incident :  we  had  falls  of  snow,  of  course, 
but  nothing  severe  enough  to  keep  the  sheep  in 
for  more  than  a  day  or  two  at  a  time ;  the  last 
one  coming  late  in  March.  This  w^as  an  oppor- 
tune and  welcome  fall,  for  the  hot  sun  soon 
melted  it  off,  starting  the  green  grass  in  readi- 
ness for  the  thousands  of  lambs  which  would  be 
making  their  appearance  early  in  May. 

"  We  shall  have  a  fine  stand  of  grass,  Jamie  !  " 
exclaimed  my  father,  rubbing  his  hands. 
"There  should  be  no  trouble  about  the  ewes 
*  owning  '  well  this  spring." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  owning  well '  ?  " 
asked  Stock. 

"  Why,  sometimes,  when  grass  is  scarce,  the 
ewes  don't  care  for  their  lambs;   they  will — 


Gathering  the  Wreckage  185 

some  of  them — desert  themi  without  compunc- 
tion. Strange  thing,  isn't  it?  But  good  grass 
means  that  the  ewes  have  plenty  of  milk,  and 
then  they  are  the  most  devoted  of  mothers.  It 
means  an  immense  difference  in  the  labor  and 
botheration  of  the  lambing  season,  whether  the 
sheep  '  mother  '  their  lambs  properly  or  not." 

The  month  of  May  duly  arrived,  and  with  it 
arrived  the  lambs  by  hundreds.  A  lively  time 
we  had  of  it,  too,  taking  care  of  them,  even 
though  grass  was  good,  and  even  though  we  had 
the  assistance  of  half  a  dozen  extra  hands,  hired 
for  the  occasion. 

Every  morning,  going  down  to  the  corrals,  we 
would  find  fifty  or  sixty  new  lambs.  These  we 
had  to  sort  out,  making  sure  that  each  lamb 
was  provided  with  a  mother  and  each  mother 
provided  with  a  lamb,  and  send  them  out  in  lit- 
tle bunches,  twenty  or  so  to  a  bunch,  and  two 
bunches  to  a  herder,  to  some  grassy  spot  near 
home  where  the  mothers  might  feed — for  the 
little  tottering  lambs,  of  course,  cannot  travel 
any  distance  the  first  day.  The  next  day  this 
was  repeated,  and  the  next,  and  so  on  for  several 
days.  But  one  seldom  has  hands  enough  to 
afford  a  herder  to  each  day's  "  crop  "  of  lambs, 


1 86  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

nor  is  it  necessary ;  for  as  soon  as  they  gain  a 
little  strength  all  those  lambs  which  are  nearly 
of  an  age  are  bunched,  and  then  bunched  again, 
until  presently  there  is  a  little  flock  of  perhaps 
seven  hundred — not  more — which  is  sent  out 
on  the  range  to  feed.  The  main  business  of  the 
herder  in  charge  is  to  see  that  his  lambs  keep  to 
their  own  bunch ;  and  a  fine,  active  business  it 
is ;  one  which  will  wear  out  the  temper  and 
patience  of  any  but  a  Mexican. 

When  a  lamb  gets  to  be  a  week  old  or  there- 
abouts he  is  as  sportive  as  a  kitten  and  as  full 
of  curiosity  as  an  antelope.  He  is  moreover  the 
most  feather-brained  creature  on  earth :  one 
never  can  tell  what  he  is  going  to  do  next.  His 
chief  object  in  early  life  is  to  get  out  of  his  own 
bunch  and  mix  himself  up  with  another,  when,  if 
the  herder  cannot  succeed  in  heading  him  off,  he 
will  have  a  pretty  rough  time  of  it.  He  seems 
to  think  that  "  any  old  sheep "  will  do  for  a 
mother — but  he  very  soon  finds  out  his  mistake. 
The  first  strange  ewe  he  tackles  will  reach  round, 
give  one  sniff  and  knock  him  over.  This  gives 
him  a  shock,  indeed,  but  does  not  discourage 
him.  He  tries  another — with  the  same  result. 
After  many  such  rebuffs,  finding  that  none  of 


Gathering  the  Wreckage  187 

the  sheep  will  have  anything  to  say  to  him,  he 
gives  it  up,  and  the  consequence  is  that  he  will 
starve  to  death  unless  rescued. 

Then  his  curiosity  is  without  limit.  What- 
ever he  sees  he  thinks  he  must  investigate,  and 
having  no  experience  and  consequently  no 
knowledge  of  danger,  he  will  hob-nob  indiffer- 
ently with  a  sheep  or  a  man  or  a  cow  or  a  coyote. 

One  instance  of  this  will  serve  as  an  example. 
It  was  towards  the  end  of  the  season  when,  my 
services  being  no  longer  required  as  a  herder,  I 
walked  out  to  see  how  the  flocks  were  getting 
on.  The  first  one  I  came  to  was  that  in  charge 
of  Hidalgo,  and  just  at  the  moment  I  came  in 
sight  of  it  a  coyote  appeared  from  somewhere, 
made  a  sudden  rush,  grabbed  a  lamb  by  the 
wool  between  its  shoulders  and  ran  off  with  it. 
Hidalgo  at  once  started  in  pursuit,  when  the 
coyote,  after  running  a  couple  of  hundred  yards, 
being  handicapped  by  the  weight  of  the  lamb 
and  by  the  banging  of  its  legs  against  his  own, 
dropped  his  intended  victim  and  made  off. 

The  lamb,  after  rolling  over  and  over,  sprang 
to  its  feet,  looked  about  it  and — incredible 
though  it  may  seem — set  off  in  pursuit  of  the 
coyote !     Hidalgo  could  ran  like  the  wind,  but 


1 88         Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

a  seven-day  lamb  can  run  like  a  hurricane,  and 
undoubtedly  this  foolish  little  creature  would 
have  run  on  to  its  destruction  had  not  the  coyote 
fortunately  disappeared  from  sight  over  a  hill. 
Thereupon  the  lamb  instantly  stopped,  when 
Hidalgo,  as  instantly,  fell  upon  his  hands  and 
knees  and  set  to  work  to  bleat  like  a  sheep. 
The  lamb  heard  him,  turned,  ran  straight  to 
him  and  w^as  forthwith  captured  and  carried 
back  to  safety. 

Every  night  during  the  season  we  brought  in 
each  bunch,  one  at  a  time,  and  turned  it  into  a 
separate  pen  under  the  sheds.  As  they  came  in 
at  the  corral  gate,  the  old  sheep,  knowing  where 
they  were,  ran  forward  ;  thus  sifting  out  all  the 
lambs,  which  were  left  trailing  behind.  As  a 
consequence,  the  lambs  at  once  became  convinced 
that  they  had  lost  their  mothers  ;  they  all  wanted 
to  turn  back  and  run  out  upon  the  range  to 
look  for  them  ;  and  a  lively  time  we  had  to  pre- 
vent their  doing  so.  At  length  mothers  and 
lambs  were  shut  up  together  and  left  to  sort 
each  other  out ;  when  the  next  bunch  was  driven 
in,  and  the  next,  and  so  on  until  they  were  all 
safely  penned. 

All  this  time  every  ewe  is  going  about  bawling 


Gathering  the  Wreckage  189 

for  her  lamb,  while  the  larab  itself,  standing 
with  its  legs  astraddle,  takes  in  as  much  breath 
as  it  can  hold — you  can  see  its  little  stomach 
swell  out  like  a  balloon — opens  its  mouth  and 
lets  out  a  piercing  squall ;  repeating  the  opera- 
tion again  and  again  without  intermission.  One 
can  understand  that  when  there  are  about  two 
thousand  ewes  and  two  thousand  lambs  all  un- 
der one  roof  and  all  bawling  and  squalling  at 
the  same  time  to  the  very  best  of  their  ability, 
the  babel  that  ensues  is  enough — almost — to 
crack  the  ear-drums  of  a  marble  statue. 

Before  the  month  was  out  all  the  lambs  were 
strong  enough  to  go  out  on  the  range,  and  each 
had  learned  the  first  lesson  required  of  him, 
namely,  to  distinguish  his  own  mother's  voice 
from  the  voices  of  the  nineteen  hundred  and 
ninety-nine  other  lambs'  mothers — no  small 
feat ;  the  extra  hands  had  left  us ;  and  things 
at  the  ranch  again  fell  into  their  regular  order 
for  a  short  time. 

Then,  about  the  tenth  of  June,  the  shearing 
gangs  came  up  from  the  south,  and  once  more 
we  were  up  to  our  eyes  in  work. 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Face  in  the  Window 

"  T~^0  you  think  you  could  shear  a  sheep, 
-■->/  Stock  ? "  asked  my  father,  as  the  two 
stood  side  by  side  in  the  shearing  shed,  watching 
the  experts  whip  off  fleece  after  fleece  with  the 
dexterity  born  of  long  practice. 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  Stock.  "  At  any  rate  I 
should  like  to  try.  I've  been  timing  that  big 
Mexican :  he's  taking  them  off  at  the  rate  of  a 
hundred  a  day.  Even  that  boy  over  there  comes 
for  a  check  every  twelve  minutes ;  it  looks 
simple  enough.     I'd  like  to  try  it." 

"  All  right,"  rejoined  my  father,  smiling, 
"  choose  a  sheep  and  pitch  in  ;  don't  cut  him 
up  more  than  you  can  help.  I'll  serve  out  the 
checks." 

Each  shearer  as  he  took  off  a  fleece  brought  it 
up  and  laid  it  upon  a  bench,  receiving  in  return 
a  metal  check  redeemable  at  the  end  of  the  day 
at  five  cents.  Stock  had  been  serving  out  the 
checks,  but  now,  resigning  that  ofiice  to  my 
190 


The  Face  in  the  Window  191 

father,  he  chose  a  pair  of  shears,  picked  out  a 
sheep  and  setting  it  up  on  its  haunches  went  to 
work. 

It  was  an  unlucky  day  for  that  sheep  when 
Stock  selected  it  for  his  maiden  effort.  For 
hours  it  sat  there  while  the  perspiring  shearer 
snipped  and  snipped  and  snipped  ;  and  when  at 
last,  late  in  the  afternoon  it  tottered  off  to  join 
its  companions  it  had  lost  so  many  scraps  of 
skin  that  it  looked  as  though  it  had  been  put 
through  a  thrashing-machine. 

My  mother  had  joined  us  in  the  sheds  when 
Stock,  more  nearly  played  out  than  I  had  ever 
seen  him  before,  banged  his  fleece  and  his  shears 
down  upon  the  table  and  stretched  his  arms 
across  it  to  ease  his  wearied  back. 

"  Well,  Stock,"  said  she,  "  how  should  you 
like  to  adopt  sheep-shearing  as  a  means  of 
livelihood  ?  " 

"  Not  for  me,  thank  you,"  replied  he :  "  not 
while  there's  any  other  work  under  the  sun. 
I'd  rather  beat  out  a  prairie-fire  single-handed, 
or  lug  out  sheep  from  a  snowdrift  all  day  long, 
than  shear  one  new-born  lamb — even  though  it 
were  a  dwarf  lamb  and  had  been  born  stark 
naked." 


192         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

My  mother  laughed  at  Stock's  emphatic  way 
of  expressing  his  opinion,  but  she  knew  him 
pretty  well,  and  guessing  that  he  was  merely 
suffering  from  a  temporary  fit  of  depression,  she 
said,  "Well,  let  us  wait  till  to-morrow  and 
see." 

She  felt  pretty  sure  that  our  friend  would 
never  give  in  at  one  failure,  and  in  this  she  was 
right.  Next  morning  Stock  tried  again,  and 
guided  by  his  previous  experience  he  succeeded 
in  shearing  two  sheep  that  day  without  scarring 
them  up  very  seriously ;  and  before  the  gang 
moved  on  to  the  next  place  he  was  shearing  ten 
a  day. 

When  my  mother  had  joined  us  in  the  sheds 
that  afternoon  I  noticed  that  she  was  carrying 
her  photograph  camera :  thinking  that  some 
pictures  of  the  shearing  would  interest  her 
friends  in  the  East  she  had  brought  it  down. 
On  the  way  from  the  house  she  passed  the 
herders'  cabin  which  she  "snapped  off"  as  a 
specimen  of  a  country  residence  on  the  plains, 
and  then,  continuing  to  the  sheds,  she  took 
three  or  four  pictures  of  the  shearing  operations, 
and  returned  to  the  house  to  develop  the  films. 

That  same  evening,  when  the  work  was  over, 


The  Face  in  the  Window  193 

my  father,  Stock  and  I  were  walking  up  to  the 
house  together,  when,  as  we  passed  the  cabin, 
Hidalgo  appeared  in  the  doorway  and  requested 
us  to  "  come  here." 

"  What  is  it,  Hidalgo?  "  asked  my  father. 

The  youngster  pointed  inside  the  cabin. 
■'  Look-see,  senor,"  said  he. 

We  looked  as  requested,  when  the  boy's  ex- 
citement was  at  once  explained.  The  cabin  had 
been  ransacked !  Every  blanket  had  been 
dragged  from  the  bunks  and  flung  into  a  corner, 
as  had  been  also  the  sheepskins  and  mattresses, 
the  latter  having  been  split  open  and  emptied 
of  their  contents.  The  herders'  clothes-bags  had 
been  shaken  out  and  they  and  the  clothes  flung 
into  the  same  corner.  Even  the  provision  sacks 
had  been  dumped  upon  the  floor,  and  the  big 
wooden  coal-box  upset  and  the  coal  scattered  far 
and  wide. 

"  Well !  "  exclaimed  my  father.  "  Whoever 
did  this  didn't  do  it  just  for  mischief:  he  was 
making  a  search.  He  was  in  a  desperate  hurry, 
too,  or  he  wouldn't  have  stepped  in  the  flour,  as 
you  see  he  did,  and  left  his  track  on  this  stool 
when  he  stood  up  on  it  to  run  his  hand  along 
under    the    eaves.      He   was   pretty   thorough, 


194         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

though,  for  you  see,  wherever  the  tar-paper  on 
the  walls  bulged  he  has  ripped  it  open  and  torn 
it  down.  I  wonder  if  he  found  what  he  was 
looking  for." 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  the  little  Mexican,  "  I  think 
he  do  not  find  it." 

"  Why  do  you  think  that,  Hidalgo?  I  don't 
see  what  you  have  to  go  by." 

"  Look-see,  senor,"  replied  the  boy,  picking 
up  the  little  coal-shovel.  "  See  the  corner  of  the 
shovel,  it  is  bent.  And  see,"  putting  his  finger 
upon  a  spot  on  the  floor  where  a  splinter  had 
been  newly  knocked  out,  ''  The  man  search  the 
coal-box  last.  He  scatter  the  coal  with  the 
shovel ;  he  cannot  find  what  he  look  for ;  he  is 
mad ;  he  throw  the  shovel  upon  the  floor  very 
hard  because  he  is  mad.  If  he  is  mad,  it  is  be- 
cause he  cannot  find  what  he  look  for.     No  ?  " 

''  That's  it,"  assented  my  father.  "  But  what 
can  the  fellow  have  been  looking  for,  anyhow  ? 
Money?  Nobody  would  look  for  money  in  a 
herders'  cabin." 

"  I  think  not  money,"  replied  Hidalgo.  "  I 
think " 

The  boy's  eyes  wandered  to  a  nail  in  the  wall, 
and  following  his  glance  we  caught  his  meaning. 


The  Face   in  the  Window  195 

"  The  copper  pot !  "  we  all  exclaimed  with  one 
breath. 

"  That  was  it,  no  doubt,"  said  my  father.  "  I 
wonder  who  the  fellow  was.  Have  you  seen  any 
one  about,  Hidalgo?  " 

But  neither  Hidalgo  nor  any  one  else  had  seen 
anybody  about,  and  the  matter  remained  a 
mystery  until  next  evening,  when  my  mother 
surprised  herself  and  all  the  rest  of  us  by  reveal- 
ing the  identity  of  the  marauder. 

Having  brought  out  the  photographs  she  had 
made  the  day  before,  my  mother  was  showing 
them  to  us,  when  Stock,  who  was  examining  the 
picture  of  the  herders'  cabin,  cried  out,  "  Hallo  ! 
Who's  this  looking  out  of  the  window  ?  " 

We  all  crowded  round  to  see.  Sure  enough, 
set  in  the  dark  frame  of  the  cabin  window,  was 
the  likeness  of  a  man's  face ;  a  face  with  a  high, 
narrow  forehead  and  a  long  nose  very  much  bent 
over  to  one  side.  That  it  was  a  portrait  of  the 
burglarious  intruder  there  could  be  no  doubt ; 
and  the  inference  was  that,  hearing  my  mother's 
step,  he  had  peeped  out  just  in  time  to  be  photo- 
graphed. 

"  Who  is  he,  I  wonder,"  said  Stock.  "I  never 
saw  him  before." 


196         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"  Nor  I,"  added  my  mother. 

*'  I  have,  though — somewhere,"  remarked  my 
father,  thoughtfully  rubbing  his  chin.  "  I  have 
an  impression  that  I  once  knew  the  owner  of 
that  face,  but  I  can't  think  where  or  when." 

"  Here's  Hidalgo,  father,  coming  up  with  the 
milk-cans,"  I  cried.  "  Let's  ask  him.  Hi, 
Hidalgo  ! "  I  shouted  through  the  window. 
"  Come  in  here." 

The  little  Mexican  entered,  when  my  mother, 
handing  him  the  picture,  asked,  "  Who  is  that 
looking  out  of  the  window,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Latimer,  seilora,"  replied  the  boy,  with- 
out an  instant's  hesitation. 

"  What !  The  Seiior  Americano  from  Casa 
Grande  ?  The  man  who  tried  to  get  the  secret 
of  the  copper  pot  out  of  your  grandfather  ?  The 
man  whom  the  good  padre  warned  us  against?  " 

"  Si,  seilora." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Si,  senora,  I  am  sure  ;  oh-yes-quite  sure." 

"  Ah  !  So  he  was  searching  for  the  copper 
pot  then." 

As  Hidalgo  could  tell  us  nothing  more,  he 
went  out  again,  when  we  all  turned  to  my 
father,  who,  standing  with  both  hands  upon  the 


The  Face  in  the  Window  197 

table,  was  earnestly  contemplating  the  photo- 
graph, a  thoughtful  frown  upon  his  absorbed 
countenance.  Suddenly  he  thumped  the  table 
with  his  fist  and  cried  : 

"  I  know  now.  I  know  now.  I've  got  him. 
Jamie,  jump  upon  that  chair  and  reach  down 
the  old  scrap-book  from  the  top  shelf.  Now  ! " 
— turning  over  the  leaves  and  handing  to  us  an 
old-fashioned  photograph  representing  a  group 
of  well-dressed  young  men — "  Now  !  Find  Mr. 
Latimer ! " 

It  was  easy.  In  the  front  row,  and  in  the 
very  middle  of  the  row,  stood  a  young  fellow 
with  a  long  face,  a  high  forehead,  and  a  very 
crooked  nose — the  face  in  the  cabin  window 
without  a  doubt. 

"  That  picture,"  said  my  father,  "  is  a  photo- 
graph of  the  graduating  class  of  the  year  I  en- 
tered college.  The  man  in  the  middle  was  the 
cleverest  fellow  of  his  year,  and — unfortunately 
— a  thoroughly  bad  lot.     His  name " 

My  father  stopped  short,  glanced,  with  a  very 
odd  expression  on  his  face,  first  at  Stock  and 
then  at  my  mother,  and  then,  addressing  the 
latter  with  peculiar  emphasis,  said  impressively: 
"  His  name  is  James  Latimer  White  !  " 


198  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

If  he  had  expected  my  mother  to  be  aston- 
ished, he  was  not  disappointed,  for  she  took  a 
step  backwards,  threw  up  both  hands,  and  cried, 
*'  You  don't  mean  it !  " 

Then,  for  half  a  minute,  they  gazed  at  each 
other  with  such  a  strange  look  on  their  faces 
that  Stock  and  I  stood  staring  at  them  open- 
mouthed,  wondering  what  all  this  mystery  was 
about. 

At  length,  addressing  my  mother  in  his  quiet, 
every-day  manner,  my  father  said  :  "  What  do 
you  think  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  has  a  right  to  know,"  replied  the 
former,  glancing  sideways  at  Stock. 

"  Very  well.  I  think  so  too  ;  "  and  turning  to 
my  mystified  companion  he  went  on  :  "  Stock, 
this  man  here  " — tapping  the  photograph  with 
his  finger — "  this  man  here  is  James  Latimer 
White,  the  cousin  of  that  good  friend  of  yours — 
and  ours — to  whom  you  owe  so  much  :  Miss 
Catherine  Seabright.  He  is  the  man  who  ran 
ofP  with  her  money  and  left  her  in  poverty 
when  you  yourself  were  a  little  chap  of  five." 

For  a  moment  Stock  remained  silent,  and 
then,  in  a  low  voice  of  unnatural  calmness,  he 
said,  "  That's  the  man,  is  it?     I  wish " 


The   Face  in  the  Window  199 

He  stared  straight  at  the  wall,  his  red  face 
grew  redder,  his  neck  swelled,  and  he  shut  his 
great  fists  in  a  manner  which  made  me  feel  very 
well  satisfied  that  Mr.  James  Latimer  White  was 
not  then  present. 

But  my  mother  laid  her  fingers  upon  the  back 
of  his  hand  and  his  heat  subsided  again  directly 
— as  it  always  did.  He  had  a  wonderful  con- 
trol of  his  temper.  The  only  thing  in  the  world, 
indeed,  of  which  he  was  afraid  was  that  very 
thing — his  temper.  Conscious  of  his  great 
bodily  strength,  it  scared  him  to  think  of  the 
possible  consequences  if  ever  it  should  get  the 
better  of  him. 

His  rigid  muscles  relaxed  as  he  asked  very 
quietly  :    "  What's  to  be  done,  Mrs.  Fraser?  " 

It  was  my  father  who  replied.  "  As  far  as 
this  man  himself  is  concerned,"  said  he,  *'  there 
is  nothing  to  be  done.  Miss  Catherine  would 
never  consent  to  prosecute  him.  They  two  were 
brought  up  together,  and  when  this  heartless 
fellow  disappeared  with  her  money  she  was  far 
less  distressed  by  her  loss  than  she  was  by  the 
thought  that  '  little  Jim '  had  turned  out 
badly." 

"Just  like  her,"  muttered  Stock  to  himself; 


200  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

adding  aloud,  "  I  understand.  No,  there  is 
nothing  to  be  done  in  that  direction." 

"  But  in  another  direction  there  is !  "  cried 
my  father,  with  such  sudden  and  unaccountable 
excitement  that  we  were  all  taken  aback. 
Striding  up  and  down  the  room,  he  muttered  to 
himself,  ''  No,  no.  Not  twice,  Mr.  James  Lati- 
mer White.  Not  twice.  Miss  Catherine  shall 
be  protected  this  time  whether  she  likes  it  or 
not.  Ellen  !  " — whirling  round  upon  his  heel 
and  addressing  my  mother,  we  boys  being  quite 
lost  sight  of  for  the  moment — '*  Ellen,  don't  you 
understand  now  ?  Don't  you  see  why  this  fel- 
low took  such  a  risk  to  lay  hands  on  the  copper 
pot  ?  Don't  you  know  now  who  Peral  was,  and 
what  was  the  real  name  of  Don  Blanco  ?  " 

But  my  mother,  though  evidently  thinking 
hard,  slowly  shook  her  head. 

At  this  my  father  advanced  a  step  ;  his  sud- 
den excitement  as  suddenly  left  him  ;  he  be- 
came once  more  the  quiet,  level-headed  Scotch- 
man I  was  used  to,  as,  placing  his  hands  upon 
the  table  and  leaning  half  way  across  it,  he 
asked  : 

"  Have  you  forgotten  the  old  story  of  Ber- 
trand  White,  and  his  voyage  round  The  Horn  ?  " 


The  Face  in  the  Window  201 

My  mother  looked  blankly  at  him  for  a 
moment,  and  then  the  light  of  remembrance 
flashed  into  her  face. 

"  Of  course  !  "  she  cried.  '*  Of  course  !  That 
accounts  for  it  all !  " 

For  a  moment  they  remained  gazing  at  each 
other,  oblivious  of  Stock  and  me,  when  my 
father  said  :  "  It  is  a  most  extraordinary  co- 
incidence that  the  copper  pot,  the  only  'docu- 
ment '  relating  to  the  matter  as  far  as  we  know, 
should  be  here  in  this  house," 

"  Yes.  Though  it  is  equally  remarkable,  I 
think,  that  we  should  owe  the  solution  of  the 
mystery  to  this  '  Mr.  Latimer '  himself.  If  he 
had  not,  in  his  eagerness  to  get  hold  of  the 
copper  pot,  ransacked  the  cabin,  I  should  not 
have  caught  his  face  in  the  window,  and  with- 
out it  we  might  have  remained  in  the  dark 
indefinitely.  What  do  you  propose  to  do? 
Investigate,  I  suppose.  Will  you  go  yourself 
or  send  the  boys  ?  " 

"  Send  the  boys.  I  can't  go  myself  till  the 
wool  is  sold,  and  as  the  matter  may  be  of  great 
importance  to  Miss  Catherine  we  must  not  de- 
lay, so  I  shall  send  the  boys." 

"Where?" 


20  2  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

It  was  I  who  broke  in  upon  them  with  this 
question,  unable  to  contain  myself  any  longer. 
At  the  sound  of  my  voice  my  parents  seemed 
to  wake  up,  and  my  father  with  a  laugh, 
exclaimed  : 

"  Why,  Jamie,  I'd  forgotten  all  about  you  ! 
Where  ?  Why,  over  into  the  Obispo  Valley  to 
interview  the  good  padre.  But  sit  down  and 
I'll  tell  you  the  whole  story.  You  are  old 
enough  to  be  trusted  with  it,  and  Stock,  at  any 
rate,  has  a  right  to  know.     Sit  down." 

Needless  to  say,  we  sat  down  promptly  and 
listened  with  all  our  ears  while  my  father  re- 
lated to  us  the  following  tale  : 

"  In  the  early  '  forties,'  "  he  began,  "  before 
the  war  with  Mexico,  there  lived  in  Boston  a 
young  man  named  Bertrand  White.  He  was 
rather  a  rolling  stone,  and  one  day  he  surprised 
his  friends  by  starting  off  in  a  sailing  ship  on  a 
voyage  round  The  Horn,  bound  for  California. 
But  he  never  reached  California,  for  at  some 
port  on  the  western  coast  of  Mexico  he  left  his 
ship  and  disappeared  into  the  interior. 

"  For  several  years  nothing  was  heard  of  him, 
but  eventually  he  turned  up  again  in  Boston. 
Regarding  his  adventures  while  absent  he  was 


The  Face  in  the  Window  203 

disposed  to  be  reticent,  but  in  his  family  circle 
he  used  to  tell  this  story  :  He  had  wandered 
a  long  way  northward  and  in  some  remote 
Mexican  village  had  fallen  in  with  a  Spanish 
gentleman,  by  name  Peral,  with  whom  he  had 
become  great  friends.  He  and  Peral  appear  to 
have  discovered  a  remarkable  deposit  of  gold  in 
the  neighboring  mountains.  This  gold  they 
laboriously  collected,  but  being  unable  to  re- 
move it  at  the  moment  they  stowed  it  away  in 
some  hiding-place  known  only  to  themselves, 
and  when  presently  the  opportunity  to  remove 
it  did  occur,  White  was  unable  to  go — he  had 
hurt  himself  somehow — so  Peral  went  by  him- 
self.    He  never  came  back. 

"  It  was  supposed  that  he  was  killed  by  the 
Indians,  who  at  that  moment  made  one  of  their 
periodical  raids  upon  the  valley.  For  months 
thereafter  the  harried  Mexicans  tilled  their 
fields  in  terror ;  day  and  night  sentinels  kept 
watch  upon  the  flat  roofs  of  the  adobe  houses ; 
and  as  to  going  off  to  look  for  Peral,  no  bribe 
would  induce  them  to  think  of  such  a  thing  for 
a  moment.  White  himself  made  two  or  three 
attempts,  but  he  was  always  driven  back,  and 
eventually,   a    company    of    Mexican    soldiers 


204         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

passing  through  on  their  way  to  Santa  Fe,  he 
joined  them,  and  in  the  end  made  his  way  back 
to  Boston,  determined  that  no  temptation  should 
ever  persuade  him  to  face  such  dangers  again." 

"  That  is  a  very  interesting  story,"  said  Stock. 
"  But  it  seems  to  me  that  it  misses  connection 
in  one  particular.  The  name  of  Bertrand 
White  does  not  appear  upon  the  copper  pot ; 
the  message  is  addressed  to  *  Don  Blanco  at 
Obispo.'  " 

"  And  what,"  asked  my  mother,  smiling, 
"  what  does  the  Spanish  word  '  bianco  '  mean  in 
English  ?  " 

Stock  slapped  his  knee.  "  I  see,"  he  cried. 
"  When  Bertrand  White  went  to  live  among  the 
Mexicans  he  just  translated  his  name  into 
Spanish  for  the  convenience  of  his  neighbors, 
and  instead  of  '  Mr.  White  '  he  became  '  Don 
Blanco.'  " 

"That  is  my  supposition.  ''As  '  bianco  '  in 
Spanish  means  '  white  '  in  English  it  was  a  very 
natural  and  simple  change  to  make  ;  and  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  this  poor  man,  Peral, 
finding  himself  badly  wounded,  scratched  on 
the  copper  pot  a  message  to  his  friend  Don 
'  White'  assuring  him  that  the  gold  '  remained  ' 


The  Face  in  the  Window  205 

in  its  old  hiding-place  '  behind  the  Harp- 
strings.'  " 

"  I  see,"  said  Stock  again,  nodding  his  head. 
"  Yes,  that  seems  to  be  all  straight.  But  where 
does  Aunt  Catherine  come  in,  Mr.  Fraser  ?  Why 
should  she  be  especially  concerned?  " 

"  Because  this  treasure,  if  there  is  such  a 
thing,  is  hers  and  hers  alone.  When  Bertrand 
White  died  his  only  surviving  relatives  were  a 
niece  and  a  nephew,  his  sister's  daughter,  Cath- 
erine, and  his  brother's  son,  James  Latimer.  To 
his  niece,  little  Catherine  Seabright,  he  left  by 
will  everything  he  possessed,  including,  of  course, 
this  more-or-less  mythical  treasure." 

"  I  see,"  said  Stock,  for  the  third  time.  "  And 
this  Mr.  Latimer,  or  James  Latimer  White,  as 
one  of  the  family,  is  familiar  with  the  story  of 
his  uncle's  adventure." 

"  No  doubt.  And  I  have  no  doubt  either  that 
the  story  of  old  Sandoval  finding  the  copper  pot 
with  Peral's  name  upon  it  is  well  known  among 
the  older  generation  of  Mexicans  in  the  valley  ; 
in  this  way  Mr,  Latimer  might  very  well  get  to 
hear  of  it,  and  hearing,  too,  perhaps,  that  the 
pot  is  inscribed  with  some  mysterious  writing 
which  none  but  the  good  padre  can  understand, 


2o6  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

he  has  jumped  at  the  conclusion  that  it  gives 
the  clue  to  the  hiding-place  of  the  treasure." 

"  That's  it,  I  expect,"  assented  Stock. 

"  Now,"  said  my  father,  "  this  gold  may  have 
been  much  or  it  may  have  been  little  ;  it  may 
still  remain  '  behind  the  Harpstrings '  or  it  may 
not.  But  at  least  we  owe  it  to  Miss  Catherine 
to  find  out  what  we  can  about  it,  and  so  I  pro- 
pose to  send  you  two,  with  little  Hidalgo  as  a 
guide,  into  the  Obispo  valley,  where  you  will 
repeat  this  story  to  the  good  padre  and  ask  him 
to  give  you  all  the  information  he  can.  Or- 
dinarily, I  should  never  think  of  letting  you  go 
off  on  a  '  treasure-hunt,'  but  this  case  is  peculiar  ; 
I  regard  it  as  our  duty — Stock's  duty  in  par- 
ticular— not  to  neglect  a  possible  chance  of  doing 
a  good  turn  to  the  friend  to  whom  he  is  so 
deeply  indebted.  You  agree  with  me,  Stock, 
of  course." 

''  Most  certainly,  sir.     When  may  we  start?" 

"  As  soon  as  shearing  is  over." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

The  Good  Padke 

TT  was  in  the  third  week  of  June,  the  shearing 
-*■  being  now  off  our  hands,  that  Stock,  Hidalgo 
and  I  rode  out  of  the  corral  one  morning  and 
turned  our  horses'  heads  in  the  direction  of  the 
Obispo  pass. 

The  Obispo  pass,  the  only  one  in  the  range  for 
fifty  miles  north  or  south,  was  so  high,  so  steep 
and  so  rough  that  it  was  impracticable  for 
wagons ;  only  men  on  foot  or  men  on  horseback 
could  cross  it.  As  a  consequence,  to  dwellers 
on  the  eastern  side  of  the  great  mountain  barrier 
the  little  Obispo  valley  was  an  almost  unknown 
country.  There  for  generation  after  generation, 
had  dwelt  the  two  primitive  communities  of 
Mexicans,  the  one  at  Casa  Grande  and  the  other 
at  Obispo ;  the  only  white  men  in  the  whole 
valley  being  the  good  padre  and  Mr.  Latimer. 

About  the  middle  of  our  second  day  out,  after 

a  climb  so  laborious  that  several  times  we  had 

to  dismount  and  lead   our  horses.  Stock  and  I 

caught  our  first  glimpse  of  this  new  land  from 

207 


2o8  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

the  top  of  the  pass.  At  once  our  attention  was 
attracted  by  a  remarkable  feature  of  the  land- 
scape— two  of  them,  in  fact. 

The  Trinity  range  at  this  point  makes  a  great 
bend  to  the  southwest,  and  in  the  angle  thus 
formed  there  lies  a  miniature  desert  known 
locally  as  the  Dead  Sea  ;  a  sea  whose  mountain- 
ous waves  are  not  of  water  but  of  sand.  This 
stretch  of  sand  must  be,  I  should  think,  the 
most  barren  spot  of  ground  in  the  United  States  ; 
indeed  no  spot  of  ground  in  this  or  any  other 
country  could  be  more  barren,  for  no  tree,  no 
shrub,  no  blade  of  grass  grows  upon  it.  The 
reason  is  that  its  light,  loose  surface  is  con- 
tinually shifting.  The  wind,  deflected  into  that 
corner  by  the  trend  of  the  great  mountain  chain, 
is  forever  scooping  out  the  "  waves,"  tearing 
them  down  and  piling  them  up  again.  On  the 
calmest  day  there  may  always  be  seen  from  half 
a  dozen  to  a  score  of  little  spiral  columns  of  sand 
scurrying  hither  and  thither  in  a  fussy,  purpose- 
less manner,  like  distracted  ants ;  growing  big- 
ger and  bigger,  then  suddenly  collapsing,  then 
appearing  again  at  another  point,  bustling  off 
in  a  new  direction,  jostling  with  another  one 
and  collapsing  once  more. 


The  Good  Padre  209 

So  well  understood  is  the  dangerous,  treacher- 
ous character  of  this  Dead  Sea  that  no  inhabit- 
ant of  the  valley  ever  thinks  of  attempting  to 
cross  it ;  for  a  sudden  wind — and  all  the  winds 
there  are  sudden — will  lift  up  and  change  its 
whole  surface,  when,  woe !  to  any  unfortunate 
caught  in  its  toils :  he  will  almost  certainly 
perish,  blinded,  smothered  and  buried  by  the 
driving  sand-clouds. 

"  So  that's  the  Dead  Sea,  is  it  ?  "  said  Stock, 
as  we  sat  on  the  grass  eating  our  lunch  and  look- 
ing about  us.  "  I  feel  quite  like  a  discoverer.  I 
feel  like  what's-his-name — Balboa — when  he 
climbed  the  mountains  on  the  Isthmus  and 
looked  out  over  the  Pacific.  But  what  is  that 
great  red  rock  sticking  up  out  of  the  sand  near 
the  northern  '  shore,'  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  Giant's  Castle,  senor,"  replied 
our  guide. 

"  The  Giant's  Castle,  eh  !  A  good  name.  It 
is  an  extraordinary  place.  Looks  just  as  though 
it  had  been  built  by  gigantic  human  hands." 

It  was  indeed  an  extraordinary  place.  Cover- 
ing perhaps  an  area  of  fifty  acres,  the  solitary 
butte  rose  abruptly  out  of  the  sand,  its  perpen- 
dicular walls  so  carved  and  sculptured  by  the 


2IO         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

storms  and  frosts  of  centuries,  and  still  more  by 
the  unceasing  sand-blasts,  that  one  might  easily 
deceive  himself  into  the  belief  that  its  turrets, 
battlements  and  gateways  had  been  laid  up  stone 
by  stone,  until,  bethinking  himself,  he  recog- 
nized the  fact  that  the  tallest  points  were  at  least 
a  thousand  feet  high,  while  the  most  notable  of 
the  great  arches  was  of  such  dimensions  that  a 
good-sized  church  might  have  been  planted  in- 
side it  with  room  to  spare. 

"  It  is  certainly  a  wonderful  place,"  said  I. 
"  You've  been  into  it,  I  suppose,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  the  boy  with  an  uneasy 
smile,  ''  I  have  not  been  there  ;  nobody  have 
been  there.  Only  my  grandfather,  he  is  there 
one  time  and  he  come  away  very  quick." 

"  Why  ?  What  was  the  matter  ?  Was  he 
afraid  of  something?  " 

*'  Yes,  sir,  he  was  very  much  afeared." 

"Why?" 

"  Senor,  he  hear  voices,  many  voices.  The 
place  it  is  full  of  voices." 

"  Echoes,  of  course,"  said  I.  But  Hidalgo 
only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"Who  knows?" 

"  Maybe  it's  ghosts,"  suggested  Stock.     "  The 


The  Good  Padre  211 

place  looks  like  an  old  dead  city,  and  it  ought 
to  be  full  of  ghosts.     Eh,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

To  our  surprise,  Hidalgo  took  the  remark 
quite  seriously.     "  I  think  yes,"  he  replied. 

"  Why  that's  fine  !  "  cried  Stock.  ''  If  we  can 
manage  it,  we'll  get  in  there  some  day  and  rout 
'em  out.     You  shall  come  with  us,  Hidalgo." 

The  boy  said  nothing,  but  he  looked  as  though 
he  did  not  think  it  would  be  much  of  a  treat. 
It  was  evident  that  our  little  friend  was  not  alto- 
gether free  from  superstition. 

"  Well,  never  mind  your  ghosts  just  now," 
said  I.  "  What  we  have  to  do  at  present  is  to 
take  a  lesson  in  geography.  Now,  that  little 
town  three  thousand  feet  below  us  here  in  the 
mouth  of  the  pass  is  Casa  Grande,  I  suppose  ; 
and  what  is  that  big  building  three  or  four  miles 
farther  to  the  west,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  That  is  Mr.  Latimer's  house,  senor.  The 
road  go  through  Casa  Grande  and  past  Mr.  Lat- 
imer's house,  and  so  round  the  sand-hills  to 
Obispo.  But  we  do  not  go  that  way  ;  we  go 
this  way  " — pointing  to  the  right — "  round  be- 
hind the  castle  ;  and  then  Mr.  Latimer  shall 
not  know  we  are  come." 

"  Good  idea,"  said  Stock.     "  That  is  Obispo 


2 1  2         Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

over  there,  I  suppose,"  indicating  a  collection  of 
whitewashed  adobe  houses  set  in  a  little  green 
oasis  some  distance  beyond  the  northwestern 
limits  of  the  sand-hills.     "  How  far  off  is  it?  " 

"  About  ten  mile,  senor." 

"  Can  we  make  it  to-night  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  senor.  We  cannot  go  across  the 
sand-hills,  it  is  too  riskful ;  no  one  ever  go 
across  the  sand-hills  ;  and  the  way  we  go,  over 
the  foothills,  round  behind  the  castle,  is  twenty 
mile.  It  is  good  if  we  go  now,  for  the  way  it  is 
hard  and  rough." 

Hard  and  rough  it  proved,  for  the  encroach- 
ing sand-waves  forced  us  high  up  on  the  moun- 
tain spurs.  Our  progress  was  slow  in  conse- 
quence, but  towards  sunset  we  arrived  at  a  point 
whence  we  could  look  down  into  the  Giant's 
Castle — and  an  interesting  place  it  was.  The 
bright-red  rock  composing  it  was  evidently  of 
varying  hardness,  the  softer  parts  having  been 
blown  and  washed  out,  leaving  the  harder  shell 
scooped  and  carved  into  every  conceivable 
shape ;  a  labyrinth  of  caves,  pits  and  passages. 
We  longed  to  be  into  it,  exploring  its  mysterious 
intricacies. 

By  sunrise  next  morning  we  were  under  way 


The  Good  Padre  213 

once  more,  when,  descending  from  the  foothills, 
we  passed  along  under  the  northern  wall  of  the 
castle,  whose  towering  battlements  rose  high 
above  our  heads. 

"  There's  no  getting  in  on  this  side,"  remarked 
Stock,  as  he  gazed  aloft.  '*  Do  you  notice,  Jamie, 
that  there  are  no  '  doors  '  and  *  windows '  here 
as  there  are  on  the  south  side  ?  How  do  you  ac- 
count for  that?  " 

"  I  expect,"  said  I,  "  that  the  carving  and 
sculpturing  we  saw  on  the  southern  face  of  the 
rock  are  due  chiefly  to  the  sand-blasts,  and  as 
there  is  no  sand  to  speak  of  on  this  side  the 
northern  wall  is  not  pitted  with  holes  like  the 
other.     Perhaps,  too,  the  rock  is  harder." 

"  Very  likely,"  Stock  assented.  ''  Hallo  !  "  he 
presently  exclaimed,  as  we  rounded  the  north- 
west angle  of  the  castle.  "  Look  at  all  these  trees  ! 
Who  would  have  expected  to  see  trees  growing 
in  such  a  sandy  waste  ?  Where  do  they  get  their 
water  from,  Hidalgo  ?  " 

"  From  Obispo  Creek,  seiior,"  replied  the  boy, 
smiling. 

"  From  Obispo  Creek !  Where  is  Obispo 
Creek?     I  don't  see  it." 

"  It    is    under   our   foot,    sefior.      Look-see," 


214         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

pointing  back  to  the  castle,  in  whose  western 
front,  as  we  now  perceived,  was  an  immense 
crack  extending  from  top  to  bottom.  "  The 
creek  come  out  of  that  crack  ;  it  sink  under  the 
sand  and  come  to  the  top  again  at  the  village." 

"  Ah  !  1  see.  And  these  trees  send  their 
roots  down  to  the  water.  Well,  that  is  conve- 
nient for  us  :  we  shall  have  a  shady  ride  for  the 
rest  of  our  journey." 

In  half  an  hour  more,  while  still  about  a  mile 
from  our  destination,  we  caught  sight  of  the  vil- 
lage through  the  trees,  when  Hidalgo,  who  in  his 
eagerness  to  reach  home  had  been  all  the  time 
forging  to  the  front,  exclaimed  eagerly  : 

'*  Seiior,  I  see  the  good  padre  !     May  I  go  ?  " 

"  Yes,  cut  along,"  replied  Stock  ;  adding,  as 
the  boy  went  off  like  an  arrow  from  the  bow, 
"  What  eyes  the  little  chap  must  have  !  Think 
of  distinguishing  one  man  from  another  at  such 
a  distance ! " 

For  ourselves,  we  jogged  along  at  a  more 
reasonable  pace,  until  presently,  at  the  entrance 
of  the  little  village  street  we  saw  Hidalgo  and 
the  padre  coming  towards  us.  Alighting  from 
our  horses,  we  advanced  to  meet  them. 

It  was  with  the  greatest  interest  that  we  gazed 


ALIGHTING    FROM    OUR    HORSES,     WE    ADVANCED    TO    MEET    THEM 


The  Good  Padre  215 

upon  the  "  good  padre,"  of  whom  we  had  heard 
so  often  from  our  Mexicans.  He  was  a  small, 
thin  old  man,  somewhat  bowed,  his  face  clean- 
shaven, and  his  scanty  hair  perfectly  white.  As 
he  advanced,  leaning  with  one  hand  on  his  stick 
and  the  other  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  beaming 
Hidalgo,  we  noted  the  kindly  expression  of  his 
gray  eyes  and  the  humorous  curve  at  the  corners 
of  his  mouth,  and  we  "  took  to  him  "  on  the  spot. 
We  could  understand,  we  thought,  why  all  our 
herders  should  be  unanimous  in  declaring  that 
there  was  "  no  one  like  the  good  padre." 

"  Welcome,  boys  !  "  cried  the  old  gentleman, 
extending  his  hand.  "  Welcome  to  Obispo  !  It 
is  a  great  pleasure  to  meet  at  last  some  members 
of  the  family  of  my  old  friend,  Mr.  Fraser." 

"  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  us,  too,  sir,"  said  I. 
**  And  before  I  forget  it,  let  me  say  that  my 
father  told  me  to  be  sure  to  thank  you  the  very 
first  thing  for  your  courtesy  and  promptness  in 
sending  him  herders  whenever  he  has  asked  for 
them." 

"  Your  father  has  himself  to  thank  for  that," 
replied  the  padre.  "  He  has  uniformly  treated 
them  with  fairness  and  consideration.  That  was 
a  kindly  thought  of  his,  too,  to  let  me  know  how 


21 6  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

well  this  child  had  behaved  during  the  great 
snow-storm.  You  did  well,  my  son,"  addressing 
Hidalgo  in  Spanish.  "  I  am  much  pleased  with 
you." 

The  little  Mexican's  face  fairly  glowed  at  this 
praise  from  his  beloved  padre.  It  was  delightful 
to  note  the  affection  with  which  he  regarded  his 
old  friend  and  mentor. 

"  But,  bless  me  !  "  cried  the  padre,  presently. 
''  What  am  I  thinking  of,  keeping  you  standing 
here  in  the  street  all  this  time,  when,  of  course, 
you  are  hungry  !  Come  at  once  to  my  house  ; 
you  must  have  some  refreshment  after  your 
ride." 

Leaving  Hidalgo  to  care  for  the  horses,  we 
followed  our  host  down  the  street,  and  passing 
into  a  little  flower-garden  fenced  with  cactus, 
we  walked  up  the  pathway  to  the  door  of  a  neat, 
whitewashed  house. 

'*  Enter,"  said  he  ;  and  we  went  in. 

The  padre's  sitting-room  was  of  fair  size, 
dimly  lighted  by  one  little  window  placed  high 
in  the  wall.  An  arched  fireplace  occupied  one 
corner,  while  the  usual  adobe  bench,  covered 
with  rugs  of  bright  colors,  ran  along  one  side  of 
the  room.     In  these  respects  it  was  much  like 


The  Good  Padre  217 

any  other  house  in  the  village ;  but  there  were 
besides  several  comfortable  chairs,  a  table  or 
two,  a  few  ornaments,  and,  what  distinguished 
it  far  more  than  anything  else,  many  well-worn 
books  in  English,  French,  Spanish  and  Latin. 

As  soon  as  we  were  seated,  I  took  out  of  my 
pocket  a  note  written  by  my  father,  which  I 
handed  to  the  padre.  The  polite  old  gentleman, 
with  a  "  By  your  leave  "  and  a  slight  bow  to 
each  of  us,  opened  and  read  it. 

"  It  is  not  very  long,"  said  he.  "  In  fact,  your 
father  merely  says  that  you  have  a  story  to  tell 
me  and  that  he  vouches  for  its  correctness.  If 
it  suits  your  convenience  it  might  be  well  to  tell 
me  all  about  it  at  once." 

It  did  suit  our  convenience,  and  while  the 
padre  sat  listening  attentively,  I  related  to  him 
the  whole  story,  beginning  with  Bertrand 
White's  voyage  round  The  Horn  and  ending 
with  Mr.  Latimer's  raid  upon  the  herders'  cabin 
and  our  discovery  of  his  identity. 

"  That  is  certainly  a  curious  and  interesting 
story,"  said  the  old  gentleman  when  I  had  fin- 
ished. "  I  have  no  doubt  that  your  father's 
surmise  is  correct,  and  that  Bertrand  White  and 
Don  Blanco  are  one  and  the  same  person ;  the 


21 8  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

more  so  as  Mr.  Latimer  himself  has  told  me  a 
somewhat  similar  story,  the  main  difference 
being  that  he  omitted  all  mention  of  Miss  Sea- 
bright  and  claimed  himself  to  be  the  heir  of 
Bertrand  White." 

'*  Did  he  !  "  exclaimed  Stock.  ''  He's  a — 
well,  he's  an  ingenious  rascal,  to  say  the  least. 
And  you  didn't  believe  him,  sir?  " 

"  No.  I  distrusted  him.  I  know  him  too 
well.  He  is  a  scholar  and  to  all  appearance  a 
gentleman ;  I  was  much  pleased  when  first  he 
came  into  the  valley  to  think  that  I  was  to  have 
so  refined  and  pleasant  a  neighbor ;  but  soon  I 
began  to  hear  unpleasant  stories  about  him, 
small  things,  but  all  tending  to  show  him  up  as 
a  shifty,  untrustworthy  character,  and  so  we 
gradually  fell  apart;  for  several  years  past  we 
have  seldom  held  any  communication.  It  was 
about  a  year  ago  that  he  seems  to  have  heard  of 
the  finding  of  the  copper  pot  by  old  Sandoval, 
and  since  then  he  has  been  untiring  in  his 
efforts  to  get  hold  of  it." 

"  Where  was  the  pot  found,  sir?  "  I  asked. 

"  In  the  Giant's  Castle — but  here  comes  your 
refreshment  at  last.  Sit  down  and  help  your- 
selves." 


The  Good  Padre  219 

The  table  was  laid  by  a  neat  white-haired  old 
Mexican  woman,  and  while  Stock  and  I  sat 
there  making  ruinous  inroads  into  the  padre's 
provisions — for,  early  though  it  was,  we  were  as 
hungry  as  boys  always  seem  to  be — our  host 
himself,  seated  in  his  easy-chair,  related  to  us 
all  he  knew  of  Don  Blanco,  Peral  and  the  gold 
behind  the  Harpstrings. 

"  Peral  was  dead,"  said  he,  in  conclusion, 
''  and  Bertrand  White  had  returned  to  his  own 
country  before  I  came  here,  and  though  their 
story  Avas  well  known  in  the  village,  I  might 
have  forgotten  all  about  it  but  for  the  discovery 
of  Peral's  body  with  the  copper  pot  attached 
to  it. 

"Sandoval,  who  was  a  noted  hunter,  was 
caught  one  day,  high  up  in  the  mountains,  by  a 
tremendous  snow-storm.  In  making  his  way 
back  he  somehow  got  into  the  Giant's  Castle — 
presumably  he  walked  in  blindly  over  some 
huge  drift  of  sand  and  snow  which  the  winds 
afterwards  tore  down  and  dissipated.  It  was  in 
one  of  the  many  caverns  there  that  he  came 
upon  Peral's  body.  For  two  days  and  nights, 
completely  lost,  he  wandered  about  inside  the 
castle,  but   at   last  he  found  his  way  out  and 


220         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

reached  his  home,  half  starved,  half  frozen  and 
wholly  terrified.  How  he  got  into  the  castle 
and  how  he  got  out  again  he  never  could  tell ; 
all  he  did  know  for  certain  was  that  the  place 
was  full  of  '  voices,'  as  he  declared ;  a  story 
which,  I  need  hardly  add,  enhanced  its  already 
sinister  reputation." 

"  And  then,"  commented  Stock,  "  after  twenty 
years  or  so,  along  comes  Mr.  Latimer,  hears  of 
the  copper  pot,  and  demands  that  it  be  handed 
over  to  him  as  the  heir  of  Bertrand  White." 

"  Exactly." 

"  Well,  after  the  non-success  of  his  raid  on  the 
cabin  I  should  think  he  would  give  it  up." 

To  our  surprise,  the  good  padre's  face  assumed 
an  anxious,  worried  expression  as,  shaking  his 
head,  he  replied  : 

**  By  no  means.  He  has  made  a  new  move 
since  then,  and  one  which  no  one  else  would 
have  thought  of.  He  is  truly,  as  you  remarked 
just  now,  an  ingenious  rascal.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  my  dear  boys,  we  are  in  great  distress 
here." 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter,  sir  ?  " 

"  A  serious  disaster  has  fallen  upon  us : 
Obispo  Creek  has  ceased  to  run  !  " 


The  Good   Padre  221 

Stock  raised  his  eyebrows  and  puckered  up 
his  mouth  as  though  he  were  going  to  whistle, 
but  he  only  said,  inquiringly,  "  Mr,  Lat- 
imer?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Latimer.  He  has  turned  the 
stream  at  its  source  and  it  is  now  running  to 
waste  among  the  sands  of  the  Dead  Sea." 

''  But  why,  sir?  What's  his  object?  I  don't 
understand." 

"  Nevertheless  it  is  very  clear,"  replied  the 
padre.  *'  His  object  is  to  get  from  me  the  secret 
of  the  copper  pot,  and  he  thinks  that  by  cutting 
off  our  water-supply  he  can  force  me  to  give 
it  up." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Stock.  "  Mr.  Latimer, 
of  course,  knows  very  well  that  without  water 
for  irrigation  the  people  of  Obispo  must  either 
starve  or  leave." 

"  Precisely,"  replied  the  padre.  "  And  know- 
ing that,  he  feels  well  assured  that  I  must 
eventually  give  in." 

"  But  why,  sir,"  I  asked,  "  why  does  not 
somebody  go  and  turn  the  water  back  again  ?  " 

The  padre  smiled.  ''  That  is  just  where  Mr. 
Latimer  has  shown  his  cleverness,"  he  replied. 
"  The  source  of   Obispo   Creek   is   a  powerful 


222  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

spring  which  bursts  out  somewhere  inside  the 
Giant's  Castle,  and  Mr.  Latimer  is  perfectly  well 
aware  that  there  is  not  a  Mexican  in  the  valley 
who  dare  go  in  there — the  place  has  too  evil  a 
reputation  as  the  haunt  of  uneasy  spirits." 

"  Well,"  remarked  Stock,  after  a  long  and 
thoughtful  pause,  "  it  seems  plain  that  the  first 
thing  to  be  done  is  to  turn  back  the  water. 
Don't  you  think  so,  sir  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  should  wish,"  replied  the 
padre.  "  The  discovery  of  the  treasure  is,  with- 
out doubt,  a  matter  of  importance,  but  the 
restoration  of  the  water  is  one  of  necessity  :  the 
crops  are  already  beginning  to  suffer." 

"  Yes,"  said  Stock,  nodding  his  head  half  a 
dozen  times,  "  yes,  the  water  is  the  first  thing. 
And  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  that  nobody  would  be 
so  quick  to  say  so  as  my  friend.  Miss  Seabright. 
If  she  were  here,  she  would  order  me  to  turn 
back  the  stream  at  once,  even  if  it  meant  the 
loss  of  a  fortune." 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man.  "  She  is 
good,  this  lady." 

"  *  Good '  is  the  word,"  Stock  answered, 
briefly  and  emphatically.  "  And  there's  an- 
other thing  I  can  tell  you,  sir,"  he  went  on, 


The  Good  Padre  223 

looking  to  me  for  confirmation  :  ''  if  we  two 
fellows  can  get  back  that  water,  we'll  get  it." 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  the  padre,  his  face  lighting  up 
and  the  anxious  expression  passing  away  like  a 
shadow.  "  How  fortunate  I  am  to  have  found 
such  friends.  For  '  friends '  is  the  word,  is  it 
not?" 

He  said  this  so  nicely  and  kindly  that  Stock 
and  I,  by  one  impulse,  took  a  step  forward  and 
thrust  out  our  hands.  Smilingly  the  little  padre 
grasped  them. 

"  So  it  is  '  friends,'  "  said  he. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Stock ;  and,  "  By 
your  leave,  sir,"  said  I. 

And  thus  heartily  and  with  mutual  good  will 
began  this  odd  partnership  between  us  two 
American  boys  and  the  little  old  Irish  padre  of 
Obispo. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Into  the  Giant's  Castle 

IT  was  very  gratifying  to  Stock  and  me  to  ob- 
serve that  our  new  friend,  the  padre,  never 
for  a  moment  doubted  the  truth  of  our  story, 
but  on  the  contrary,  readily  gave  us  all  the 
information  in  his  power,  answering  all  our 
many  questions  without  hesitation. 

The  information  he  could  give  us,  however, 
did  not  amount  to  very  much  beyond  the  fact 
that  the  copper  pot  had  been  found  in  the 
castle.  To  my  question  as  to  whether  he  knew 
what  "  the  Harpstrings  "  meant,  he  replied  : 

"  I  do  not.  Whether  it  is  some  peculiar  for- 
mation of  rock,  or  what  it  is,  I  have  no  idea." 

"  And  do  you  think,  sir,  that  there  really  is 
such  a  thing  as  a  buried  treasure  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  feel  sure  of  it.  There  can  be  hardly  a 
doubt  that  Peral  and  Don  Blanco  did  hide  away 
a  treasure  of  more  or  less  value  somewhere,  and 
it  is  even  more  certain  that  it  could  not  have 
been  since  discovered  without  my  hearing  of  it. 
224 


Into  the  Giant's  Castle  225 

From  the  fact  also  that  Peral's  body  was  found 
there,  and  that  the  place  is  of  itself  a  most  likely 
one  for  the  purpose,  I  feel  convinced  that  the 
hiding-place  is  somewhere  inside  the  Giant's 
Castle." 

"Then,"  said  Stock,  "the  first  thing  to  be 
done  is  to  get  into  the  castle." 

In  this  conclusion  we  were  all  agreed,  decid- 
ing after  some  further  discussion,  that  before  at- 
tempting to  fix  upon  any  systematic  course  of 
action  it  would  be  well  to  make  a  preliminary 
survey  of  the  ground. 

Early  next  morning,  therefore,  we  set  out,  in 
due  course  arriving  before  the  west  front  of  the 
castle  at  the  point  where,  through  the  great 
cleft  in  the  wall,  there  issued  a  driblet  of  water 
— all  that  was  left  of  the  once  impetuous  Obispo 
Creek. 

"  Well,  Hidalgo,"  said  Stock,  "  do  you  want 
to  stay  with  the  horses,  or  will  you  come  with 
us  into  the  castle  ?  " 

"  I  come  with  you,  sir,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Good  !     You  are  not  afraid,  then  ?  " 

Hidalgo  hesitated,  as  though  he  found  it  dif- 
ficult to  explain,  but  at  length  he  said,  "  I  am 
afeared,  senor,  a  good  deal ;  but  I  look  and  I  see 


226         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

you  are  not  afeared  ;  and  the  good  padre  he  say 
to  me,  '  Do  not  be  afeared/  and  so  I  will  not  be 
any  more  fearful  than  I  can  help  myself,  and  I 
will  come  with  you." 

"  Come  on,  then  !  "  cried  Stock  ;  and  without 
further  parley  we  entered  the  crevice. 

Our  idea  was  that  we  would  walk  up  the 
nearly-dry  bed  of  the  stream  to  the  point  where 
it  had  been  "  switched  off,"  when,  having  ascer- 
tained what  means  had  been  used  to  turn  the 
flow,  we  could  decide  what  other  means  were 
necessary  to  turn  it  back  again.  This  course, 
however,  we  very  soon  found  to  be  less  simple  in 
practice  than  it  was  in  theory. 

The  castle  wall  was,  I  take  it,  the  thickest 
castle  wall  in  existence,  for  we  advanced  along 
the  bottom  of  the  deep  and  narrow  crevice  for  a 
hundred  yards  or  more  ere  we  emerged  into  a 
great  circular  basin,  whose  sides,  scoured  smooth 
by  the  eddying,  sand-laden  winds,  rose  perpen- 
dicularly to  a  height  of  two  hundred  feet. 
Projecting  from  the  wall,  some  forty  feet  above 
the  bottom,  was  a  ledge  or  shelf  of  harder  rock 
which  ran  round  the  whole  circumference  of  the 
basin,  while  forty  feet  higher  still  was  a  second 
ledge,  the  counterpart  of  the  first,  except  that  it 


Into  the  Giant's   Castle  227 

was  two  or  three  times  as  wide.  Immediately 
above  this  upper  "balcony,"  exactly  opposite  to 
where  we  stood,  was  a  large,  dark  hole  in  the 
wall,  and  out  of  this  hole  came  the  little  stream. 

This  curious  basin,  which  we  then  and  there 
dubbed  "  The  Giant's  Soup  Kettle,"  we  exam- 
ined with  minute  care,  reaching  the  conclusion 
that  there  was  no  possible  way  of  getting  in  or 
out  except  along  the  creek-bed. 

"Therefore,"  said  Stock,  "as  we  can't  walk 
up  the  old  bed  of  the  creek,  we  must  find  the 
new  bed  and  walk  up  that." 

Accordingly  we  retraced  our  steps  along  the 
crevice,  and  turning  to  the  left  made  our  way 
along  the  southern  face  of  the  castle,  very  much 
impeded  by  the  immense  drifts  of  light,  loose 
sand,  which,  on  this  side,  were  piled  fifty  and  a 
hundred  feet  high  against  the  wall,  extending 
in  long  ridges  out  into  the  Dead  Sea.  At 
length,  after  a  most  laborious  walk  of  an  hour 
or  more,  on  scrambling  to  the  top  of  one  of  these 
ridges,  we  saw  below  us  a  fine,  big  stream  of 
water,  which,  rushing  out  through  a  large  arched 
hole  in  the  castle  wall,  was  promptly  swallowed 
up  by  the  thirsty  sand. 

Sliding  down  the  further  side  of  this  ridge,  we 


2  28  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

entered  the  archway,  but  hardly  had  we  set  foot 
inside  when  Hidalgo  startled  us  by  exclaiming, 
"  Look,  senores !  Mr.  Latimer  and  his  man, 
Aaron  ! " 

We  glanced  hastily  around,  but  seeing  no  one, 
we  turned  to  Hidalgo  for  an  explanation.  He 
was  pointing  to  the  ground,  and  there  in  the 
damp  sand  we  observed  two  footprints,  one  long, 
slim  and  neat,  the  other  of  immense  proportions 
— "  big  as  a  bear's,"  as  Stock  put  it. 

"  How  do  you  know  it  is  Mr.  Latimer  and  his 
man  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Because,  sir,  the  Mexicans  they  will  not 
come  in  here  ;  there  is  only  three  men  in  the 
valley  who  will  not  be  afeared  to  come  in  here. 
One  is  Mr.  Latimer — this  is  him  I  am  almost- 
yes-quite  sure — and  one  is  Aaron.  He  is  a 
negro  man,  very  big  and  very  heavy — see  how 
his  foot  sink  in.  He  is  to  Mr.  Latimer  his  head 
vaquero,  his  boss  cow-man." 

"  But  who  is  the  third  man  who  would  not  be 
afraid  to  come  in  ?     I  don't  see  any  more  tracks." 

"  The  third  man  do  not  leave  any  tracks," 
replied  Hidalgo.  "  He  is  an  Indian.  He  is  boss 
of  Mr.  Latimer's  sheep-herders.  He  is  little — 
not  any  more  big  than  me— but  he  is  old  and 


Into  the  Giant's  Castle  229 

wise  and  full  of  tricks.  He  is  called  '  Gray 
Fox.'  I  am  afeared  of  The  Fox,  and  if  we  shall 
— how  do  you  say  ? — '  run  up  against  him,'  then 
we  must  keep  open  very  wide  all  our  eyes  ;  we 
must  mind  our  O,  P,  Q's." 

Hidalgo  brought  out  his  version  of  the  familiar 
saying  so  seriously  that  we  carefully  refrained 
from  smiling,  and  Stock,  though  his  face 
twitched,  replied  gravely  : 

"  Then  we'll  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  The  Fox, 
Hidalgo.     Come  on,  let's  go  in." 

We  found  little  difficulty  in  following  the 
passage,  which  was  wide  and  high  and  sufficiently 
light  to  allow  us  to  dispense  with  the  use  of 
candles,  of  which  we  had  brought  several.  It  was 
decidedly  up  hill  all  the  way,  however,  the  ascent 
increasing  in  steepness  so  rapidly  that  at  length 
we  were  obliged  to  use  our  hands.  At  this  point, 
looking  upward,  we  could  see  daylight  above 
our  heads,  and  after  a  smart  scramble,  we 
emerged  from  the  passage  to  find  ourselves 
standing  in  a  sort  of  high-walled  courtyard,  from 
the  upper  end  of  which  the  stream  came  flying 
down  towards  us,  spread  out  thinly  over  the 
smooth  stone  floor. 

Splashing  through  the  water,  we  soon  reached 


230         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

the  upper  end  of  the  "  courtyard,"  and  there  we 
at  once  discovered  the  means  used  by  Mr. 
Latimer  to  divert  the  stream.  It  was  a  simple 
and  effective  expedient. 

The  floor  of  the  "  courtyard  "  was  shaped  like 
the  back  of  a  spoon,  and  at  the  highest  point, 
fed  by  a  powerful  spring,  was  a  circular  pool, 
whose  sides  were  very  nearly,  but  not  quite,  of 
equal  height.  If  left  to  itself,  the  water  would 
have  run  out  on  the  right-hand  side ;  but  here 
Mr.  Latimer  had  interfered  by  filling  a  number 
of  sacks  with  sand  and  laying  them  along  the 
lower  side  of  the  pool.  This  caused  the  water  to 
rise  very  nearly  to  the  top  of  the  sand-bags,  but 
before  it  could  rise  quite  high  enough  to  over- 
flow them  it  found  it  could  get  out  on  the  op- 
posite side,  which  of  course  it  did,  running  off" 
to  waste  among  the  sand-hills. 

"  It  won't  be  much  of  a  job  to  turn  the  stream 
back  again,"  remarked  Stock.  ''  All  we  have  to 
do  is  to  pitch  these  sacks  of  sand  into  the  pool 
and  away  she  goes.  Shall  we  do  it  at  once  ? 
The  padre  would  be  delighted  to  see  the  water 
come  back  so  soon." 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  explore  further  first," 
said  I.     "  For  one  thing,  if  we  could  discover  a 


Into  the  Giant's  Castle  231 

second  way  in  and  out  of  this  place  it  might  be 
very  convenient.  If  Mr.  Latimer  should  find 
out  what  we  are  up  to,  he  could  easily  box  us  up 
here  by  stationing  his  friend,  Br'er  Fox,  in  the 
passage  with  a  gun  in  his  hands.  I  don't  know 
whether  he  would  do  such  a  thing,  but  he  could 
if  he  liked." 

"  That's  true,"  Stock  assented.  "  And  there's 
another  thing  to  be  considered  before  we  turn  the 
water :  I  think  it  is  very  likely  that  Mr. 
Latimer,  from  the  roof  of  his  house  ,  may  be 
able  to  see  the  stream  where  it  runs  out  down 
below  here,  and  if  he  should  miss  the  flash  of 
the  water,  of  course  he  would  come  right  over  to 
investigate." 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  I.  "  And  our  diffi- 
culties in  making  our  search  for  Don  Blanco's 
hoard  would  be  immediately  increased  a  hun- 
dred-fold." 

"  Senores,"  said  Hidalgo,  "  with  your  leave  I 
think  in  my  head  one  thing." 

*'  What's  that,  Hidalgo?  "  asked  Stock. 

"  I  think,  seiior,  it  is  good  if  we  find  first  this 
gold  of  Don  Blanco — if  we  can " 

"  An  important  '  if,' "  Stock  interrupted, 
laughing.     ''  Well  ?  " 


232  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"  It  is  good  if  we  find  this  gold  and  take  it 
away.  Then  the  good  padre  he  will  write  to 
Mr.  Latimer  one  little  letter,  and  he  will  say, 
*  Do  not  any  more  bother  yourself :  the  gold  it  is 
gone ' ;  and  Mr.  Latimer,  then  he  will  not  any 
more  trouble  the  good  padre.     No  ?  " 

"  There's  something  in  that,"  remarked  Stock. 
"  And  so,  Jamie,  taking  it  all  round,  I  think  the 
padre  would  not  object  to  our  doing  a  little  ex- 
ploring first,  especially  as  we  know  now  that  we 
can  '  turn  on  '  the  water  at  any  moment." 

"  All  right,"  said  I.  "  And  I  vote  we  first 
follow  down  the  old  bed  of  the  creek  and  see  if 
there  is  anything  to  be  gained  by  that." 

The  diminutive  stream  formed  by  the  water 
which  squeezed  its  way  between  Mr.  Latimer's 
sand-bags,  ran  straight  across  the  "  courtyard  " 
until  it  came  against  the  northern  wall,  when, 
turning  short  to  the  left,  it  went  scurrying  along 
close  under  the  wall,  popped  round  a  corner  and 
disappeared.  Following  its  crooked  course  for 
some  distance  as  it  dodged  hither  and  thither 
like  a  scared  rabbit — our  clattering  shoes  awaken- 
ing ten  thousand  echoes  as  we  did  so — we  pres- 
ently entered  a  wide,  low-roofed  archway,  in  the 
soft  sandstone  floor  of  which  the  stream  had  cut 


Into  the  Giant's  Castle  233 

for  itself  a  deep  groove,  thus  enabling  us  to  walk 
dry-shod  beside  it.  Down  this  passage  we  went 
until  it  became  so  dark  that  we  were  obliged  to 
light  our  candles.  Nor  did  we  do  so  a  minute 
too  soon,  for  a  few  steps  farther  on  we  came 
upon  a  steep,  narrow,  smooth- worn  descent  down 
which  the  water  went  flying. 

"  Hold  up  !  "  cried  Stock,  throwing  himself 
back  against  Hidalgo  who  was  just  behind 
him. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  I  asked  ;  for  being  the 
last  one  I  could  not  see.  "  Have  we  come  to  a 
jumping-ofF  place  ?  " 

''  Pretty  nearly,"  Stock  replied.  "  But  we  can 
get  down  if  we  go  carefully.  It  is  quite  light  at 
the  bottom ;  we  must  be  near  the  end  of  the 
passage.     You  wait  here  till  I'm  down." 

Blowing  out  his  candle,  which  he  no  longer 
needed.  Stock  stepped  over  the  rim  and  cau- 
tiously descended  the  steep  slope,  holding  on  to 
the  sides  wherever  he  could  find  anything  to 
hold  on  by.  In  spite  of  all  his  care,  however, 
his  feet  presently  slipped  from  under  him  and 
down  he  went  like  a  flash,  getting  pretty  wet, 
but  being  otherwise  unhurt. 

I  was  preparing  to  follow,  when  he  looked  up 


2  34  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

and  cried  :  "  Don't  come  down  yet,  Jamie  :  it's 
dangerous." 

"Why  is  it  dangerous?"  I  asked,  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  I  mean  it  is  dangerous  for  all  three  of  us  to 
be  down  here  together.  Suppose,  by  some  ac- 
cident, the  water  should  break  through  those 
sacks  up  above  there :  no  mortal  man  could 
climb  up  this  slope  with  the  whole  stream  com- 
ing down.  We  should  be  caught ;  and  no  one 
would  know  where  we  were." 

"  Come  up ! "  I  cried,  alarmed  at  the  sug- 
gestion.    "  Come  back  at  once." 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  Stock  replied.  "  It's  all  right 
as  long  as  two  of  j^ou  are  up  there  :  you  could 
turn  the  water  again  if  it  should  break  loose ;  it 
is  only  taking  too  big  a  risk  for  all  of  us  to  be 
down  at  once.  You  just  stay  where  you  are,  if 
you  don't  mind,  while  I  go  ahead  and  see  where 
we've  come  to." 

''  All  right,"  said  I.     ''  But  be  quick." 

At  this  Stock  vanished  ;  but  in  two  seconds 
he  was  back  again. 

"  Jamie,"  said  he,  "  there's  a  cave  here,  a  big 
one,  a  whopping  big  one ;  I  can't  see  the  roof, 
it's  so  high.     There's  a  good-sized  archway  at 


Into  the  Giant's  Castle  235 

the  far  end  where  the  daylight  comes  in  and  the 
stream  runs  out.  Just  wait  another  couple  of 
minutes  while  I  skip  out  there." 

He  was  soon  back  once  more,  and  looking  up 
at  us,  he  said,  with  some  excitement,  "  Where 
do  you  think  we've  come  out,  Jamie?  " 

"Where?" 

"  In  the  Soup  Kettle  ! " 

"In  the  Soup  Kettle?" 

"  Yes.  You  remember  when  we  were  in  there 
just  now  we  could  see  a  hole  in  the  wall  just 
above  the  upper  balcony  ?  Well,  this  hole  here 
at  the  end  of  the  cave  is  that  hole.  The  stream 
runs  out  there  and  falls  off  the  balcony  into  the 
Soup  Kettle." 

"  Come  on  up,  then,"  said  I ;  for  I  felt  uneasy  as 
long  as  he  remained  at  the  bottom  of  the  slope. 
"  There's  no  way  of  getting  down  from  the  bal- 
cony— we  know  that — so  we  may  as  well  go 
back." 

"  I  suppose  so,  but Look  here,  Jamie,  I'll 

tell  you  what  I  wish  you'd  do  :  I  wish  you  and 
Hidalgo  would  go  back  and  stand  guard  over 
those  sand-bags  while  I  go  and  make  a  tour  of 
the  balcony.  There's  no  way  of  getting  down, 
but  it  is  just  possible  there  may  be  some  way  of 


236  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

getting  up,  and  I  should  Hke  to  make  sure  be- 
fore we  give  it  up  altogether." 

I  did  not  half  like  this  idea,  but  Stock  was  so 
anxious  to  go  that  at  last  I  consented. 

"  All  right,  then,"  said  I,  "  go  ahead ;  but 
don't  be  any  longer  than  you  can  help." 

Hidalgo  and  I  therefore  hurried  back,  going 
up-stream  much  more  quickly  than  we  had 
come  down  ;  for  being  able  in  a  dozen  places  to 
cut  across  the  bends,  we  made  a  great  saving 
both  in  time  and  distance. 

No  sooner  had  we  reached  the  spring  than 
Hidalgo,  turning  to  me,  said,  "  Seiior,  if  you 
say  *  yes,'  I  go  to  the  top  of  the  passage  where 
we  come  in,  and  I  take  in  my  hand  one  big 
rock,  and  if  any  one  come  up,  I  say,  '  Stop ! 
Mind  you  your  eye,  or  I  biff  you  one  dreadful 
smash  with  this  rock.'  " 

"  All  right,  Hidalgo,"  I  replied,  laughing, 
"  you  can  go  and  stand  guard  there  if  you  like ; 
but  don't  go  biffing  anybody  ;  we  don't  w^ant 
anything  of  that  sort — the  good  padre  wouldn't 
like  it,  you  know.  If  any  one  should  appear, 
just  call  out  and  I'll  come." 

Sitting  down  beside  the  spring,  I  waited  and 
waited.    The  sun  worked  round  and  the  shadows 


Into  the  Giant's   Castle  237 

began  to  fall  the  other  way,  and  still  I  waited. 
I  was  becoming  very  fidgety,  wondering  where 
Stock  had  got  to,  and  conjuring  up  pictures  of 
all  sorts  of  accidents  that  might  have  happened 
to  him,  when  I  was  startled  by  a  loud  "  Stop  !  " 
from  Hidalgo. 

Springing  to  my  feet,  I  ran  to  the  spot,  and 
there,  with  his  head  sticking  out  of  the  passage 
and  a  grin  all  over  his  face,  was  Stock  ! 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  Harpstrings 

"TT  THERE  on  earth  did  you  spring  from?" 

VV    I  cried,  in  astonishment. 

Stock  laughed.  "  I've  a  notion  not  to  tell 
you,"  said  he  ;  *'  but  that  would  be  rather  scurvy 
treatment  after  you've  had  all  the  waiting  and 
I've  had  all  the  fun.  I'll  tell  you  this  much, 
though  :  I've  found  another  way  in  and  out  of 
the  castle.  And  what's  more,  if  I  ever  did  bet, 
I  shouldn't  mind  betting  a  bad  nickel  to  a 
frozen  potato  that  I've  found  the  way  by  which 
Don  Blanco  and  Peral  used  to  get  in  and  out. 
There!  That's  all  I'm  going  to  tell  you  at 
present ;  so,  now,  come  on,  and  I'll  show  you 
instead." 

This  was  not  very  satisfactory  to  Hidalgo  and 
me,  who,  of  course,  were  bursting  with  curiosity 
to  hear  the  details;  but  Stock  was  obdurate, 
and  finding  it  did  no  good  to  keep  on  badgering 
him  with  questions,  we  made  up  our  minds  that 
we  might  as  well  await  his  good  pleasure. 

Leading  the  way  down  the  passage,  our  guide 
238 


The  Harpstrings  239 

conducted  us  outside  the  castle  and  set  off  over 
the  sand  ridges  by  the  way  we  had  come  in  the 
morning.  One  after  the  other,  we  climbed  these 
drifts  until,  having  ascended  the  last  one.  Stock, 
instead  of  sliding  down  the  opposite  side  as 
usual,  turned  to  the  right  and  plowed  his  way 
upward  along  the  back-bone  of  the  ridge  to  the 
point  where  it  rested  against  the  castle  wall. 
Until  this  moment  he  had  not  said  a  word,  but 
now  he  burst  forth. 

"  There  !  "  cried  he.  "  How's  that  for  a  secret 
passage  ?  " 

Between  the  point  of  the  drift  and  the  castle 
wall  was  a  space  scooped  out  by  the  wind,  ex- 
posing in  the  wall  itself  a  small  irregular  cavity 
about  three  feet  high. 

"  Well !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  That  is  well  hidden, 
and  no  mistake  !  " 

"  Isn't  it  ?  How  Don  Blanco  ever  discovered 
it  puzzles  me.  Perhaps,  though,  the  drift 
wasn't  here  in  his  time." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  said  I,  "  I  don't  see  what 
reason  you  have  to  suppose  that  Don  Blanco 
did  discover  it." 

"  I  know  you  don't,"  replied  Stock,  "  but  you 
will  directly.     Come  on." 


240  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

With  that  he  lay  down  upon  his  back,  gave 
himself  a  shove-oif  with  his  hands,  and  shot  feet 
foremost  through  the  hole.  Hidalgo  and  I  were 
not  slow  to  follow,  and  in  a  moment  we  found 
ourselves  standing  in  just  such  another  passage 
as  the  one  we  had  lately  left. 

Lighting  candles — for  this  passage  was  very 
dark — we  followed  our  leader  for  a  long  dis- 
tance, climbing  steadily  upward  all  the  time, 
until  presently  the  tunnel  opened  out  into  a 
capacious  cave.  Across  this  cave  Stock  led  the 
way,  when  suddenly  he  arrested  our  farther 
progress  by  crying,  "Stop  !     Look  out  here  !  " 

Advancing  cautiously,  we  saw  that  we  were 
standing  upon  the  rim  of  a  large  circular  hole 
about  twenty  feet  deep,  in  the  bottom  of  which 
was  a  crack  dimly  admitting  a  streak  of  day- 
light. The  pit  was  shaped  somewhat  like  an 
ordinary  ginger-jar,  smallest  at  the  top,  and  in 
it  there  stood — most  interesting  and  unexpected 
sight — a  stout  pine  pole  with  notches  cut  in  it 
b}''  way  of  steps. 

"  Now  !  "  exclaimed  Stock,  triumphantly. 
"What  do  you  think  of  that?  Somebody  put 
that  pole  there  to  serve  as  a  ladder,  so  that  he 
might  get  down  to  the  balcony  and  into  the 


The  Harpstrings  241 

cave  where  the  stream  runs  out ;  for  that  is 
where  it  leads  to,  and  it  leads  nowhere  else. 
The  question  is — Who  put  it  there?  Don 
Blanco?" 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  Don  Blanco's  day," 
said  I,  cautiously. 

"  I  know  it  is,"  rejoined  Stock,  seeing  what  I 
had  in  mind.  '*  But  you  must  remember  that 
in  this  dry  climate  a  stout  pine  pole  like  that 
would  last  for  centuries.  Look  at  the  things 
they  find  in  the  Cliff  Dwellers'  houses — mats 
and  baskets  and  ears  of  corn  hundreds  of  years 
old  and  still  almost  as  good  as  new.  This  pole 
is  sound,  but  it  is  old,  too,  as  you  can  tell  by  the 
look  of  it ;  and  my  belief  is  that  it  was  Don 
Blanco  who  set  it  here,  and  that  Don  Blanco's 
treasure  lies  somewhere  ahead  of  us." 

My  usually  level-headed  partner  was  excited, 
it  was  plain  to  see,  and  his  excitement  communi- 
cated itself  to  me. 

"  Come  on  !  "  I  cried.  "  Let's  go  down  !  If 
Don  Blanco  did  put  this  ladder  here,  he  did  it 
with  an  object,  and  our  business  is  to  find  out 
what  his  object  was.     Come  on  down  !  " 

We  were  soon  at  the  bottom,  and  creeping 
through  the  crack  emerged  directly  upon  the 


242  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

upper  of  the  two  balconies  which  encircled  the 
Soup  Kettle.  Along  this  ledge,  which  was  a 
foot  thick  and  seven  or  eight  feet  wide,  we 
walked  to  the  great  cave  through  which  ran 
the  trickling  remnant  of  Obispo  Creek. 

"  Now,"  said  Stock,  ''  when  Don  Blanco  used 
to  come  here,  this  was  as  far  as  he  could  go,  be- 
cause the  water  was  coming  down  the  slope  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  cave  then  and  he  couldn't 
get  any  farther." 

"  That's  true,"  I  interrupted.  "  And  conse- 
quently, if  Don  Blanco  did  hide  his  gold  any- 
where about  here  it  must  have  been  on  this  side 
of  the  water-slope." 

"  That's  the  idea.  So  let  us  light  our  candles 
and  make  a  search  of  the  cave." 

We  had  no  more  than  started  on  our  search, 
when  we  made  a  find  which  sent  up  our  hopes 
with  a  bound.  On  one  side  of  the  cave  we  dis- 
covered a  small  inner  chamber  which  evidently 
had  been  once  used  as  a  living-room,  for  in  it 
were  several  dry  old  sheepskins  arranged  to 
serve  as  beds,  the  ashes  of  a  long-dead  fire  and  a 
good-sized  heap  of  fire-wood. 

But  though  we  carefully  inspected  this  cham- 
ber, moving  everything  in  it  that  was  movable, 


The   Harpstrings  243 

we  could  find  nothing  that  looked  like  a 
hiding-place,  and  we  therefore  walked  out  again 
to  continue  our  search  of  the  big  cave.  We  had 
scattered  all  over  it,  when  from  out  of  the  dark- 
ness we  heard  Hidalgo's  voice  calling,  "  I  find 
him.  I  find  one  hole ;  "  and  hurrying  to  the 
spot  we  saw  the  boy  standing  in  the  mouth  of  a 
narrow  passage  about  four  feet  high. 

"  This  go  somewhere,"  said  he.  "  See  the 
wind,  how  it  blow  the  candle." 

Into  this  passage  we  squeezed,  one  after  the 
other,  finding  that  it  went  pretty  sharply  down 
hill,  and  after  following  it  for  some  distance  we 
came  into  another  cave,  a  little  one  this  time,  on 
the  far  side  of  which,  close  to  the  floor,  was  a 
small  hole  like  a  rabbit-hole,  admitting  a  faint 
streak  of  daylight  and  a  strong  draught  of  air. 

We  held  our  candles  high  and  looked  about 
us. 

"  Hallo  !  "  exclaimed  Stock.  "  Look  there ! 
A  gate !  " 

He  pointed  to  a  hollow  place,  a  sort  of  alcove, 
in  the  wall,  railed  off,  apparently,  by  half  a 
dozen  upright  bars  set  about  two  feet  apart. 
These  bars  were,  in  fact,  flat,  narrow  seams  of 
rock,  but  as  they  presented  their  edges  towards 


244  Dale  and  Fraser,   Sheepmen 

us  they  did  look  very  like  a  gate,  or,  still  more, 
like  a  grating. 

But  as  we  stood  gazing  at  them,  there  sud- 
denly came  into  my  head  the  words  of  the  in- 
scription on  the  copper  pot,  and  in  a  voice  full 
of  excitement,  I  cried  : 

"  Stock  !     The  Harpstrings  !  " 

For  a  brief  space  we  all  stood  silent  and  mo- 
tionless, and  then  Stock  marched  across  the  cave 
and  squeezed  his  big  body  between  two  of  the 
bars,  we  following  him.  Covering  some  object 
on  the  floor  of  the  little  alcove  was  an  old  elk- 
hide,  dried  stiff  and  all  cockled  at  the  edges,  and 
raising  it  we  found  beneath,  not  the  heap  of 
shining  gold  we  had  made  up  our  minds  we 
should  find,  but  two  large  bowls  of  Mexican 
ware,  one  empty  and  one  half  full  of  quick- 
silver. 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  said  Stock,  rubbing 
his  chin  with  an  air  of  perplexity,  as  he  con- 
templated this  unexpected  find.  "  Isn't  there 
any  gold  after  all  ?  Did  Feral  come  and  take  it 
away  ?  And  yet  he  says,  '  The  gold  remains  be- 
hind the  Harpstrings.'  Surely  these  must  be 
the  Harpstrings,  but  if  so,  where's  the  gold  that 
*  remains  '  behind  them  ?  " 


The  Harpstrings  245 

The  two  bowls  were  standing  upon  a  flat  stone, 
and  at  my  suggestion  we  removed  them  and 
lifted  the  stone. 

"  Ha ! "  we  all  three  exclaimed  with  one 
breath ;  for  we  found,  as  I  had  hoped,  that  the 
stone  concealed  a  hollow  place  in  the  floor  in 
which  stood  four  high-shouldered,  narrow- 
necked  jars,  two  of  them  covered — like  old-fash- 
ioned jam-pots — with  strips  of  raw-hide  which 
had  been  put  on  wet  and  tightly  bound  in  place 
with  a  buckskin  thong. 

Going  down  upon  his  knees.  Stock  lifted  out 
one  of  the  uncovered  jars,  remarking,  *'  That's 
empty  ; "  but  on  taking  hold  of  the  lip  of  the 
next  one,  though  he  had  the  strongest  finger  and 
thumb  of  any  one  I  ever  knew,  it  slipped  out  of 
his  grasp. 

"  Phew  !  "  he  whistled.  "  This  isn't  empty, 
anyhow.  It's  as  heavy  as  lead — heavy  as  gold, 
I  mean." 

Taking  a  firmer  hold,  he  lifted  out  the  jar 
and  set  it  down,  when  we  all  knocked  our  heads 
together  trying  to  peep  in  at  once. 

"  Here,  wait  a  bit,"  said  Stock.  "  Let's  turn 
some  of  it  out  into  this  bowl." 

He  tilted  the  jar  carefully,  but  nothing  came  ; 


246  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

he  tilted  it  further,  bat  still  nothing  came ;  he 
tilted  it  yet  more,  and  then  the  contents  fell 
forward  with  a  soft  thud,  nearly  making  him 
drop  the  jar.     Still  nothing  came  out. 

"  Look  in,  Jamie,"  said  he,  "  and  see  what  it 
is." 

By  peeping  and  prying,  twisting  my  neck  and 
shifting  my  candle,  I  made  out  that  there  was 
something  shiny  inside  the  jar,  but  what  it  was 
I  could  not  decide. 

"  Hold  it  steady  a  moment,"  said  I,  "  and  I'll 
dig  some  of  it  out." 

So  saying,  I  took  my  knife  and  gouged  out 
some  of  the  contents,  which  fell  into  the  bowl 
with  a  soft  "  spat." 

"  Well !  "  exclaimed  Stock,  pushing  back  his 
hat  and  clutching  his  hair.  "  If  this  doesn't 
beat  everything!  Quicksilver  again,  and  solid 
quicksilver  at  that !  " 

It  was  true  !  The  material  was  plainly  quick- 
silver, but  yet  it  was  solid  ;  or,  rather,  it  was 
stiff,  so  that  one  might  press  it  into  different 
shapes  with  his  finger  and  thumb  and  it  would 
stay  so. 

It  may  seem  odd  that  two  young  fellows,  liv- 
ing in  a  country  Avhere  mining  was  so  important 


The  Harpstrings  247 

an  industry,  should  have  so  little  knowledge  of 
metallurgy  as  to  be  unable  to  form  a  guess  as  to 
the  nature  of  this  "  solid  "  quicksilver,  but  it 
must  be  remembered  that  our  business  was 
"  sheep,"  and  that  mining  was  as  much  out  of 
our  line  as  it  would  be  to  the  average  boy  in 
Boston  or  New  Orleans.  With  quicksilver  that 
you  could  take  up  in  a  spoon  we  were  familiar, 
but  of  quicksilver  that  you  could  pick  up  with 
a  fork  we  had  never  heard. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  let's  do.  Stock,"  said  I. 
"  Let's  go  back  to  the  good  padre  and  report 
progress,  and  let's  take  some  of  this  stuff  with 
us.  Perhaps  he  will  know  whether  it  has  any 
value  or  not." 

"  That's  what  we'll  do,"  cried  my  companion. 
"  And  we'll  start  at  once.  Just  a  minute, 
though  ;  let's  open  these  other  jars  first  and  see 
what's  in  them." 

We  hoisted  the  two  jars  out  of  the  hole,  both 
of  them  being  an  immense  weight,  when,  having 
cut  the  strings  and  pried  off  the  stiff  raw-hide 
covers,  we  found  each  of  them  to  be  nearly  two- 
thirds  full  of  the  same  material  as  the  first  one. 

"  Then  that  settles  it,"  said  Stock.  "  We'll 
take  a  sample  and  get  out  at  once." 


248  Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

It  was  just  six  in  the  evening  when  we  reached 
Obispo  once  more,  pretty  tired  and  outrageously 
hungry,  for  we  had  been  so  interested  in  our 
explorations  that  we  had  quite  forgotten  to  eat 
any  dinner.  The  kind  little  padre  was  de- 
lighted to  see  us  back,  nor  did  the  voracity  of 
our  appetites  seem  to  affect  his  welcome,  for 
laughingly  he  helped  us  again  and  again  as  we 
sat  at  his  table  doing  our  best  to  eat  up  every- 
thing in  the  house  that  was  eatable.  It  was  not 
till  supper  was  over — which  it  was  at  last — that 
he  would  listen  to  the  story  of  our  day's  adven- 
tures. 

"  And  this,  sir,"  said  Stock,  as  he  wound  up 
the  tale,  "  this  is  the  stuff  we  found  in  the  jars." 

After  a  brief  examination  of  the  sample,  the 
padre  rose  from  his  chair,  and  saying,  ''  Come 
with  me,"  led  the  way  into  his  kitchen.  There 
was  a  bright  fire  in  the  fireplace,  and  taking  a 
long-handled  iron  spoon,  he  dropped  into  it  a 
fragment  of  the  metal  and  inserted  it  among  the 
glowing  coals.  In  a  few  minutes — the  spoon 
being  now  red-hot — he  carefully  removed  it  and 
laid  it  upon  the  hearth. 

"  There  !  "  said  he.  "  What  do  you  think  of 
your  '  solid  '  quicksilver  now  ?  " 


The  Harpstrings  249 

We  stooped  over  to  see.  To  our  astonishment, 
in  place  of  the  scrap  of  quicksilver,  there  lay 
in  the  bowl  of  the  spoon  a  scrap  of  equal 
size,  but  of  gold  !  It  was  porous  and  "  spongy  " 
— but  it  was  gold  !  We  turned  with  one  accord 
to  our  host  for  an  explanation. 

"  Come  back  to  the  other  room,"  said  he, 
laughing  at  our  wonderment,  ''and  I  will  tell 
you  how  this  conjuring  feat  is  performed. 

"This  'solid'  quicksilver  of  yours,"  he  ex- 
plained, when  we  were  once  more  seated,  "  is 
what  is  known  as  amalgam.  If  you  take  some 
quicksilver  and  drop  into  it  a  scrap  of  gold,  the 
gold  will  all '  dissolve  ' — I  know  no  better  word  ; 
it  will  disappear,  as  a  lump  of  sugar  disappears 
in  a  cup  of  tea.  By  putting  the  quicksilver  into 
a  buckskin  bag,  however,  and  squeezing  the  bag 
with  your  fingers,  it  may  all — or  nearly  all — be 
pressed  through  the  pores  of  the  buckskin,  leav- 
ing the  gold  in  the  bag.  The  residue  is  then  in 
the  condition  of  this  sample.  But  quicksilver, 
when  subjected  to  heat,  will  go  off  in  fumes, 
leaving  the  gold  behind  it ;  and  that  is  what 
took  place  when  I  '  cooked  '  that  little  bit  in  the 
spoon  just  now." 

"  I  see,"  said  Stock,     "  So,  after  all,  the  stuff 


250         Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

in  the  jars  is  gold,  with  a  little  quicksilver 
mixed  in." 

''  Yes,"  replied  the  padre ;  "  and  Peral  told 
the  truth  when  he  said,  '  The  gold  remains  be- 
hind the  Harpstrings.'     Is  there  much  of  it?  " 

"  There  is  not  much  in  bulk,  sir,  but  it  is  a 
tremendous  weight.  It  must  be  very  valuable. 
I'm  almost  afraid  to  go  on  with  the  job." 

"So  am  I,"  said  I.  "Do  you  think,  sir,  we 
had  better  try  to  get  it  away  by  ourselves  ?  It  is 
a  pretty  serious  undertaking." 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  padre.  "  It  certainly  is. 
It  is  a  matter  which  deserves  careful  considera- 
tion :  we  must  not  act  precipitately.  There  is 
one  rather  curious  circumstance,  though,  which 
encourages  me  to  think  we  shall  yet  defeat  Mr. 
Latimer." 

"What's  that,  sir?" 

"  Has  it  not  occurred  to  you  that  there  is  one 
very  remarkable  fact  in  connection  with  your 
discovery  ?  That  it  is  to  Mr.  Latimer  himself 
you  owe  it?  " 

"  No,  sir  !  "  exclaimed  Stock  and  I  together. 
"How?" 

"  By  turning  the  stream  out  of  its  old  bed  he 
provided   you  with   a   pathway  by  which  you 


The  Harpstrings  251 

were  enabled  to  come  upon  Don  Blanco's  passage 
from  the  rear.  Do  you  think,  if  the  stream  had 
not  been  turned  out  of  its  old  bed,  you  would 
ever  have  found  it  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  cried  Stock,  slapping  his  knee, 
"  I'm  sure  we  shouldn't ;  we  should  never  have 
thought  of  looking  behind  that  sand-drift.  You 
are  right,  sir  :  it  was  Mr.  Latimer  who  showed 
us  the  way  !  " 

The  padre  nodded.  *'  It  is  that,"  said  he, 
"  which  strengthens  my  belief  in  our  ultimate 
success.  Mr.  Latimer  may  have  superior  clever- 
ness and  greater  force  on  his  side,  but  we  have 
right  and  justice  on  ours ;  and  right  and  justice 
will  win." 

The  old  gentleman's  faith  was  catching  ;  some- 
how we  felt  an  unreasoning  assurance  that  we 
should  beat  Mr.  Latimer  in  the  end. 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  cried  Stock,  "  then  we'll  go 
ahead.     The  only  question  is — How?" 

That,  certainly,  was  the  question,  and  a  puz- 
zling one  it  proved. 

Important  as  was  the  matter  of  getting  the 
gold  away,  still  more  important  was  the  restora- 
tion of  the  water.  It  must  be  brought  back,  and 
that  without  delay  ;  for  already  the  crops  were 


252  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

beginning  to  wilt  under  the  hot  sun.  But  if 
Mr.  Latimer  was  keeping  watch  upon  the  stream, 
as  he  surely  was,  the  moment  he  saw  that  it  was 
no  longer  running  out  on  the  south  side  of  the 
castle  he  would  come  over  to  see  about  it.  He 
would  probably  turn  the  stream  back  again,  and 
then,  knowing  that  the  padre  must  have  secured 
help  from  some  outsider,  he  would  proceed  to 
find  out  who  the  helper  was.  Then,  should  he 
discover  our  presence  in  Obispo,  he  might  be 
able  to  prevent  us  from  returning  to  the  castle ; 
in  which  case  the  padre  and  the  villagers  would 
be  no  better  off  than  before. 

We  discussed  this  problem  very  thoroughly, 
for  a  long  time  without  finding  a  solution,  when, 
at  length,  an  idea  occurred  to  me. 

''  How  would  this  work,  sir  ? "  I  asked. 
"  Suppose,  to-morrow  afternoon,  we  ride  to  the 
castle,  getting  one  of  the  Mexicans  here  to  ride 
with  us  to  bring  back  our  horses " 

"Why?"  Stock  interrupted.  "What's  the 
object  of  that?" 

"  Because  we  shan't  want  them.  Wait  till 
I've  finished  and  then  you'll  see." 

"  All  right ;  go  ahead." 

"  We'll  take  our  blankets  with  us  and  pro- 


The  Harpstrings  253 

visions  enough  for  a  day  or  two  and  camp  for 
that  one  night  where  the  stream  runs  out  from 
the  Soup  Kettle.  At  dusk  we'll  turn  the 
water." 

"  Why  at  dusk  ?  "  asked  Stock. 

"  Because  Mr.  Latimer  won't  be  able  to  see  it, 
and  we  shall  have  the  stream  running  for 
twelve  hours  anyhow.  Then,  first  thing  in  the 
morning,  we'll  carry  our  things  up  to  the  cave 
and  go  into  hiding  there." 

"Well,  what  next?  I  don't  quite  see  what 
you're  driving  at." 

"  Why,  this,"  I  replied.  "  We  turn  the  stream 
at  dusk."  Stock  nodded.  "  At  daylight  next 
morning — or  before — we  go  up  to  the  cave  and 
there  we  pack  up  the  gold  ready  for  transporta- 
tion.    At  dark  next  evening  we  bring  it  away." 

"  Yes,  that's  all  right — as  far  as  it  goes — but 
how  about  the  water  ?  If  Mr.  Latimer  sees  that 
the  stream  has  stopped  he  will  come  and  turn  it 
again,  and  then,  I  expect,  he  will  set  a  guard  in 
the  passage  to  prevent  any  one  going  in." 

"  All  right  ;  let  him.  We  shall  be  in  Don 
Blanco's  cave,  shan't  we,  and  all  we  have  to  do 
is  to  walk  up  the  dry  bed  of  the  creek,  as  we 
have  done  before,  turn  the  stream,  and  then 


2  54         T>a\e:  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

with  a  brisk  run  get  back  to  the  cave  before  the 
water  arrives." 

Once  more  Stock  slapped  his  knee.  "  Jamie," 
he  cried,  "  I  believe  you've  struck  it !  That 
does  seem  like  a  workable  idea.  Mr.  Latimer 
won't  know  where  we  spring  from,  and  I  should 
think  he  would  soon  get  tired  of  piling  up 
sand-bags  only  to  have  them  removed  as  soon  as 
his  back  is  turned.  What  do  you  think  of 
Jamie's  plan,  sir  ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  the  old  gentleman  in  a  some- 
what doubtful  tone,  but  at  the  same  time  smil- 
ing kindly,  as  though  loth  to  throw  cold  water 
on  our  enthusiasm,  "  we  cannot  tell,  of  course, 
how  it  may  succeed  until  we  try,  but  at  least  it 
has  one  decided  merit — it  is  a  plan." 

"  Yes,"  said  Stock,  laughing, ''  we  can  say  that 
for  it,  anyhow  ;  and  what's  more,  it  is  the  only 
plan  we  have." 

"  That  is  true,"  the  padre  assented.  "  And  as 
we  must  get  the  water  back  at  once,  we  will  try 
Jamie's  way  of  doing  it.  By  the  way,"  he 
added,  *'  I  would  suggest  that  while  you  are 
waiting  in  your  cave  you  occupy  your  time  by 
*  converting '  your  amalgam  into  gold — I  will 
provide  you  with  some  iron  spoons  for  the  pur- 


The  Harpstrings  255 

pose.  There  is  no  need  for  you  to  carry  the 
extra  weight  and  bulk  of  the  quicksilver ;  the 
smaller  the  package  the  better." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Stock.  "  So  that  is 
settled.  We  turn  the  stream  at  dusk  to- 
morrow." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  Pistol  Shot 

SUNSET  next  evening  found  us  once  more 
at  the  entrance  of  Mr.  Latimer's  passage, 
when,  leaving  Stock  and  Hidalgo  to  keep  guard 
outside,  I  climbed  up  to  the  spring  and  one  by- 
one  turned  the  sacks  of  sand  upside  down. 
Away  went  the  stream,  as  if  rejoicing  to  find 
itself  again  in  its  familiar  bed  ;  and  seeing  that 
the  water  had  ceased  to  run  out  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  pool,  I  gathered  up  the  sacks  and 
quickly  rejoined  my  companions. 

Returning  to  our  camp  under  the  western 
wall  of  the  castle,  we  cooked  our  supper  and 
soon  afterwards  went  to  bed  beneath  the  stars, 
sleeping  as  soundly  as  three  fat  young  bears  in 
midwinter.  So  soundly,  indeed,  did  we  sleep 
that  we  were  not  aware  until  morning  that 
some  time  during  the  night  a  lively  little  thun- 
der-storm had  come  rattling  down  the  range, 
pelted  us  for  a  few  minutes  and  passed  on.  But 
for  the  pleasant  freshness  of  the  air  and  the  not 
256 


A   Pistol  Shot  257 

so  pleasant  dampness  of  our  blankets  we  should 
have  known  nothing  about  it. 

The  daylight  was  yet  feeble  when  we  arose, 
packed  up  all  our  scanty  belongings  and  carried 
them  up  to  Don  Blanco's  cavern,  through  which 
there  was  now  rushing  a  fine  stream  of  water, 
which  leaped  from  the  balcony  and  went  flying 
across  the  bottom  of  the  Soup  Kettle  on  its  way 
down  to  Obispo. 

As  soon  as  we  had  made  things  snug,  we  went 
down  to  the  little  cave  below,  whence  we  carried 
up  everything  to  the  big  outer  cavern,  and  there, 
as  soon  as  the  fire  we  had  made  had  burned  into 
coals,  we  set  to  work  "  reducing  "  our  amalgam. 

Turning  out  the  contents  of  one  of  the  jars 
into  the  empty  bowl,  we  took  scraps  of  the  metal 
and  cooked  them  in  the  iron  spoons,  of  which 
we  had  six,  keeping  them  all  going  at  once ; 
taking  care,  however,  not  to  breathe  any  of  the 
fumes,  which,  the  good  padre  had  told  us,  it 
was  dangerous  to  do.  As  soon  as  the  contents 
of  any  of  the  spoons  turned  yellow  we  dropped 
them  into  one  of  the  empty  jars  and  pounded 
down  the  stuff  with  a  stick. 

It  was  a  tedious  process,  but  by  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon  we  had  "  converted  "  all  our  amal- 


^5^  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

gam,  packing  the  resulting  gold  into  two  of  the 
jars,  each  of  which  it  filled  two-thirds  full. 
Hidalgo  having  whittled  a  couple  of  "  corks  " 
out  of  a  piece  of  fire-wood,  we  plugged  the 
mouths  of  the  jars,  sealing  them  with  lumps  of 
clay  and  covering  the  whole  with  pieces  of  wet 
buckskin  tightly  bound  round  with  twine. 

For  the  transportation  of  these  heavy  jars,  we 
placed  them  in  two  stout  sacks,  furnished — un- 
wittingly— by  Mr.  Latimer,  sewing  them  in  place 
with  twine,  and  afterwards  fastening  the  mouths 
of  the  sacks  securely  together ;  thus  making  a 
rough  but  serviceable  double-ended  saddle-bag. 

I  was  busy  doing  the  sewing — for  we  had  but 
one  big  needle — when  Stock  remarked  :  "  Jamie, 
I  think  I'll  pack  up  the  quicksilver  too ;  we  might 
have  a  chance  to  carry  it  off,  and  if  we  can  we 
may  as  well." 

Taking  the  two  remaining  jars,  therefore,  he 
ladled  the  quicksilver  into  them,  finding  that  it 
filled  them  both  to  the  neck,  and  having  corked 
them  with  clay,  he  covered  each  with  a  patch 
of  wet  buckskin  as  we  had  the  other  two 
jars. 

While  he  and  I  were  thus  engaged,  Hidalgo, 
who  was  without  occupation,  wandered  outside 


A  Pistol  Shot  259 

upon  the  balcony.  Presently  he  walked  briskly 
in  again,  stepped  to  the  wood-pile,  whence  he  se- 
lected a  long  stick,  and  went  off  down  the  pas- 
sage to  the  little  cave  below.  In  a  few  minutes 
back  he  came,  without  the  stick,  and  once  more 
went  out  upon  the  balcony. 

"  What's  he  up  to  ?  "  asked  Stock. 

"Don't  know,"  I  replied.  ''Hark!  Here 
he  comes  back  again." 

Hidalgo  advanced  to  the  end  of  the  cave 
where  we  were,  his  face  beaming  with  a  smile 
of  such  evident  self-satisfaction  that  Stock,  who 
was  seated  on  the  ground  with  a  jar  between  his 
knees,  busily  winding  a  piece  of  twine  round 
and  round  its  neck,  looked  up  and  said  : 

''  Hallo,  Hidalgo !  What's  the  matter  with 
you  all  of  a  sudden  ?     Locoed  ?  " 

The  youngster  grinned,  and  squatting  down 
beside  us,  he  replied  : 

"  I  tell  you,  senor.    I  think  in  my  head " 

But  here  he  stopped,  and  what  Hidalgo 
thought  in  his  head  we  were  destined  not  to 
learn  just  yet.  His  countenance  assumed  an 
air  of  listening,  and  holding  up  one  finger,  he 
said,  "  I  hear  a  silence  !  " 

It  was  his  way   of   saying  that    he    missed 


26o  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

a  sound,  and  we,  listening  also,  noticed  that 
some  familiar  noise  was  lacking. 

"  It  is  the  stream,"  said  Hidalgo.  "  It  is 
stopped." 

Up  we  all  jumped  and  ran  to  look.  Hidalgo 
was  right :  the  stream  had  ceased  to  run.  Mr. 
Latimer  doubtless  had  blocked  it  again. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Jamie ;  shall  we  turn 
it  on  again  ?  "  Stock  asked. 

"  I  should  think  so,"  I  replied  ;  "  and  if  we 
are  going  to  walk  up  the  dry  bed  of  the  creek 
we  must  go  at  once  while  there  is  still  daylight." 

"  That's  a  fact,"  said  Stock.    "  Come  on,  then." 

It  was  no  easy  thing  to  get  up  the  water-chute 
at  the  end  of  the  cave,  but  Stock,  after  two  or 
three  ineffectual  attempts,  at  length  scrambled 
up,  and  having  brought  with  him  one  of  our 
two  picket-ropes,  he  cast  the  end  down  to  us, 
when  we  followed  him  up  with  comparative 
ease. 

Proceeding  with  caution,  we  came  presently 
to  the  "  courtyard,"  when,  seeing  nobody  about, 
we  walked  up  to  the  spring,  finding,  as  we  had 
expected,  that  the  sand-bags  we  had  carried  off 
had  been  replaced  by  a  new  set. 

Here  Stock  was  for  removing  the  obstacles  at 


A  Pistol  Shot  261 

once,  but  I,  fearing  that  in  the  race  back  to  the 
cave  the  water  might  get  there  first,  suggested 
instead  that  we  take  our  knives  and  slash  the 
sacks,  trusting  to  the  water  to  dig  out  their  con- 
tents by  degrees.  Accordingly,  we  all  whipped 
out  our  knives  and  cut  great  gaps  in  the  bags, 
which  at  once  began  to  settle  as  the  sand  oozed 
out  of  them.  To  make  a  sure  thing  of  it.  Stock 
seized  the  middle  sack  and  flung  it  into  the 
pool.  Out  gushed  the  water ;  and  at  the  same 
moment  away  went  we,  as  hard  as  we  could  run. 

In  our  race  with  the  water  we  were  easy  win- 
ners, for  by  cutting  across  the  bends  of  the  stream 
we  gained  on  it  so  much  that  we  had  been  safely 
back  in  our  cave  a  good  ten  minutes  ere  the  full 
volume  of  Obispo  Creek  was  once  more  pouring 
into  the  Soup  Kettle. 

"  Now,  Jamie,"  said  Stock,  "  we  must  finish  up 
our  work  here  and  be  ready  to  get  out  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice.  Mr.  Latimer  will  be  just  flying 
around,  trying  to  find  out  who  has  cut  up  his 
sacks." 

There  was  no  doubt  about  that,  so,  without 
losing  a  moment,  we  set  about  making  our 
preparations  for  a  sudden  departure,  should 
such  a  course  appear  necessary. 


262         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

It  was  an  hour  later,  perhaps,  and  we  were  at 
supper  in  the  little  inner  chamber,  when  with 
one  accord  we  all  sat  up  straight  and  cocked  our 
ears.  The  muffled  sound  of  a  pistol-shot  was 
humming  through  the  caves  ! 

Who  fired  this  shot,  and  why,  I  must  now  ex- 
plain ;  for  though  it  was  not  until  long  after- 
wards that  we  learned  the  particulars,  I  must 
relate  them  here  in  order  to  make  matters 
intelligible. 

As  we  had  suspected,  it  had  been  Mr.  Lati- 
mer's habit  once  every  day  to  ascend  to  the  roof 
of  his  house,  and  from  that  elevation  to  note 
whether  the  stream  was  still  running  out  on  the 
south  side  of  the  castle.  He  had  become  so  ac- 
customed to  seeing  it  pouring  out  day  after  day 
that  when,  one  afternoon,  on  climbing  to  his 
lookout  post,  he  missed  the  familiar  flash  of  the 
water,  he  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes.  Long 
and  earnestly  he  gazed  through  his  field-glass, 
reaching  the  conclusion  at  last  that  his  eyes  had 
not  deceived  him  :  the  stream  had  stopped  ! 

Calling  his  two  henchmen,  Aaron  and  The 
Fox,  and  carrying  with  him  a  new  set  of  sacks, 
he  at  once  rode  over  to  see  about  it.  Knowing 
that   the  Mexicans  dare  not  venture   into   the 


A   Pistol  Shot  263 

castle,  and  being  ignorant  of  our  presence  in  the 
valley,  he  expected  to  find  that  the  water  had 
somehow  burst  its  way  through  the  barrier ;  but 
when,  on  reaching  the  spring,  he  discovered 
that  the  sacks  had  disappeared  bodily,  he  im- 
mediately concluded  that  the  padre  had  suc- 
ceeded in  securing  help  from  some  other 
quarter. 

Aaron  having  filled  the  new  sacks  and  set 
them  in  place,  the  three  men  returned  to  the 
mouth  of  the  passage,  where,  after  a  lengthy 
consultation,  it  was  decided  that  the  big  negro 
should  remain  on  guard  while  the  other  two 
rode  round  the  castle  to  try  to  pick  up  the  trail 
of  the  intruders  and  find  out  where  they  came 
from. 

Mr.  Latimer  and  The  Fox  rode  off  accord- 
ingly, but  they  had  hardly  gone  a  hundred 
yards  when  a  shout  from  Aaron  brought  them 
back. 

The  stream  had  stopped  again  ! 

So  his  adversaries,  whoever  they  were,  were 
hiding  somewhere  inside  the  castle  itself !  Very 
well ;  they  should  soon  be  routed  out.  Trust 
The  Fox  to  run  them  down  to  their  lair. 

The  three  men  returned  forthwith  to  the  pool, 


264         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

where  they  found  the  new  sacks  all  cut  and 
slashed  and  scattered  this  way  and  that  by  the 
water. 

Like  a  well-trained  old  hound,  The  Fox  at 
once  cast  about  for  some  sign  of  the  busybodies 
who  had  worked  the  mischief — a  seemingly 
hopeless  quest  on  the  hard  stone  floor  of  the 
"  courtyard."  None  but  an  Indian  would  ever 
have  discovered  a  trace,  but  in  a  couple  of  min- 
utes this  keen-sighted  old  savage  espied  on  the 
rock  a  minute  scratch  made  by  a  brass  shoe- 
nail,  and  directly  afterwards  another  and  an- 
other. With  these  tiny  marks  as  guides,  he 
conducted  his  companions  along  the  border  of 
the  stream  and  into  the  passage  which  led  down 
to  the  big  cave.  Here  new  evidence  of  our 
presence  was  found  in  the  form  of  candle-grease, 
and  feeling  sure  they  had  run  us  to  earth,  on 
they  went  until  suddenly  they  came  upon  the 
rim  of  the  water-chute. 

Seeing  at  a  glance  how  impossible  it  would  be 
for  any  one  to  climb  the  slope  while  the  water 
was  running  down  it,  they  knew  that  there  must 
be  some  other  way  out  of  the  castle  on  beyond, 
and  supposing  that  we  might  have  already  left 
the  place,  back  they  hurried  to  their  horses  and 


A  Pistol  Shot  265 

went  scouring  round  the  back  of  the  castle  in 
the  hope  of  cutting  across  our  trail. 

Arrived  at  the  outlet  of  the  stream  they  of 
course  discovered  our  old  camp,  and  there  The 
Fox,  once  more  casting  about,  very  soon  came 
upon  our  tracks — that  inopportune  little  thun- 
der-storm having  rendered  the  sand  sufficiently 
damp  to  retain  our  footprints.  Without  hesi- 
tation he  led  the  way  straight  to  the  top  of  the 
sand  drift  and  into  the  passage,  along  which 
they  followed  until,  to  their  great  surprise,  they 
came  upon  Don  Blanco's  ladder. 

It  was  obvious  to  them,  as  it  had  been  to  us, 
that  the  old  pine  pole  had  stood  there  many 
years,  and  in  Mr.  Latimer's  mind  immediately 
arose  the  question: — Who  put  it  there?  Like 
a  flash  his  thoughts  flew  to  Don  Blanco's  treas- 
ure— a  subject  never  very  far  from  his  mind 
in  any  case — and  for  the  first  time  he  conceived 
the  idea  that  it  was  not  merely  for  the  sake  of 
restoring  the  water  that  the  padre's  emissaries 
had  invaded  the  castle. 

Greatly  excited,  he  climbed  down  the  ladder 
and  creeping  through  the  hole  in  the  bottom  of 
the  pit,  he  surveyed  the  Soup  Kettle  and  its  en- 
circling   balconies.      For    several    minutes    he 


266  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

studied  the  place.  The  only  visible  opening  in 
the  face  of  the  cliff  was  the  archway  whence  the 
stream  issued,  and  the  conclusion  was  a  safe  one 
that  the  padre's  friends,  whoever  they  might  be, 
were  now  in  behind  that  archway  ;  for  The  Fox 
had  assured  him  that  all  the  footprints — the  foot- 
prints of  three  people — pointed  inward  and  in- 
ward only. 

Mr.  Latimer  chuckled — and  well  he  might ; 
for  here  were  the  padre's  agents  corraled.  They 
could  not  ascend  the  water-chute  ;  they  could  not 
climb  out  of  the  pit.  They  could  only  get  out 
by  his  good  leave. 

Knowing  therefore  that  he  held  the  enemy  in 
his  hands,  and  being  assured  that  they  must 
capitulate  on  any  terms  he  chose  to  offer,  Mr. 
Latimer  decided  that  he  would  summon  them  to 
a  parley,  and  as  there  was  no  horn  suspended  at 
the  castle  gate  upon  which  he  might  blow  a 
warning  blast,  he  did  the  next  best  thing — he 
drew  a  revolver  and  fired  a  shot  in  the  air. 

"  A  shot !  "  cried  Stock,  jumping  to  his  feet ; 
an  example  we  all  followed.  "  Mr.  Latimer 
making  signals  !  We  must  go  and  look  after  our 
ladder,  Jamie ;  if  he  were  to  find  it,  it  might  be 
awkward." 


A  Pistol  Shot  267 

Inside  the  cave  the  sound  of  the  shot  had  been 
so  faint  that  we  supposed  it  to  have  been  fired 
somewhere  beyond  the  castle  walls,  and  though 
we  agreed  that  it  would  be  better  to  err,  if  we 
erred  at  all,  on  the  side  of  caution,  we  really 
had  no  fear  that  Mr.  Latimer  would  be  able  to 
find  the  passage.  We  had  forgotten  the  thun- 
der-storm ;  nor  did  we  know  that  The  Fox  had 
been  the  most  noted  trailer  of  his  tribe. 

Taking  with  us  the  saddle-bags,  we  hastened 
along  the  balcony  to  the  crack  in  the  wall  lead- 
ing into  the  pit,  where  I,  being  the  first  to  crawl 
through,  turned  to  haul  up  the  bags.  The 
position  was  cramped,  however,  and  tug  as  I 
might  I  could  not  budge  them. 

"  Stock,"  I  called,  "  you'll  have  to  come 
through  and  pull  from  this  end.  You  may  talk 
about  lead  being  heavy,  but  I  believe  gold  is 
twice  as  heavy." 

As  soon  as  we  had  hoisted  the  bags  through 
the  crack,  I  lighted  a  candle  and  turned  to 
ascend  the  ladder.  It  was  gone  !  At  the  same 
moment  a  quiet  chuckle  above  our  heads  caus- 
ing us  to  look  up,  we  saw,  seated  on  the  edge  of 
the  pit,  his  feet  dangling  in  space,  a  tall,  black- 
haired  man  with  a  very  one-sided  nose.     On  his 


268         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

right  stood  a  burly  negro  with  a  good-natured 
grin  on  his  face,  and  on  his  left  a  little, 
wrinkled  old  Indian,  who  stood,  stiff  and  stolid, 
gazing  down  at  us  without  a  smile  or  a  wink. 

Our  countenances  must  have  worn  a  very  blank 
expression,  for  Mr.  Latimer,  laughing  softly,  said, 
"  Awkward,  isn't  it,  boys?  You  are,  without  any 
figure  of  speech, '  in  a  hole.'  "  Then,  as  Hidalgo 
came  crawling  up — ''  Ah  !  Little  Jose  Sandoval, 
the  owner  of  the  copper  pot !  Now  I  begin  to 
understand.  So  you  have  found  Don  Blanco's 
treasure,  have  you  ?  I  rather  suspected  as  much 
when  I  saw  this  old  ladder,"  indicating  the  pine 
pole,  the  end  of  which  we  could  see  projecting 
between  Aaron's  feet,  "  and  of  course  when  I 
heard  you  mention  the  weight  of  those  bags  I 
felt  sure  of  it." 

As  we  made  no  reply,  having,  indeed,  noth- 
ing to  say,  he  went  on  : 

"  Well,  it  is  growing  late  and  I  should  like  to 
be  getting  home  ;  so  now  to  business,  boys.  I 
have  a  proposal  to  make  to  you  which  I  am  sure 
your  good  sense  will  convince  you  is  just  and 
reasonable."  As  he  said  this  he  laughed  in  a 
manner  which,  I  thought,  boded  us  no  good. 
**  It   is   plain   that  you  cannot  get  out  of  this 


A   Pistol  Shot  269 

place  without  my  leave ;  so  this  is  my  proposi- 
tion :  I  have  for  sale  one  ladder,  old  but 
serviceable — the  price  a  very  inferior  hair  of 
saddle-bags.     What  do  you  say  ?  " 

It  was  just  as  I  had  feared.  We  were  not  to 
expect  mercy  or  decency  from  a  man  who  was 
ready  to  starve  out  the  whole  population  of 
Obispo  in  order  to  gain  his  ends.  He  was  just  as 
ready  to  starve  out  us.  He  had  the  whip-hand 
of  us  and  he  was  going  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

I  could  hear  Stock  grind  his  teeth,  but  after  a 
moment's  reflection  he  replied  quietly  :  '*  Look 
here,  Mr.  Latimer — I  suppose  you  are  Mr.  Lati- 
mer— you  have  the  best  of  it  at  present,  I'll 
allow,  but  you've  got  to  remember  that  if  we 
can't  get  out,  you  can't  get  in  ;  and  it  won't  be 
long  before  our  friends  come  to  look  for  us  : 
they  know  where  we  are.  Now,  I'll  make  a  bar- 
gain with  you :  You  set  back  the  ladder  at  once 
and  I'll  give  you  half  the  contents  of  one  of 
these  jars — we  have  the  stuff  packed  in  jars. 
What  do  you  say?" 

"  On  the  whole,"  Mr.  Latimer  replied,  with 
deliberate,  conversational  easiness,  "  on  the 
whole,  I  think  not.  Even  if  your  friends  should 
come  to  look  for  you,  I  think  I  can  head  them 


270  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

off ;  while  without  outside  assistance  it  is  obvious 
that  you  must  eventually  come  round  to  my 
terms.  Don't  suppose  for  a  moment  that  I  feel 
any  unfriendliness  towards  you,  even  though 
you  did  play  hankey-pankey  with  my  sand- 
bags ;  on  the  contrary,  I  feel  that  I  am  under  an 
obligation  to  you  for  having  unearthed  this 
treasure,  which  I  am  sure  I  could  never  have 
done  for  myself.  But  for  years  past,  long  before 
you  ever  heard  of  it,  I  have  been  hoping  to  find 
Don  Blanco's  hoard,  and  now  that  it  may  be 
said  to  be  virtually  in  my  hands,  I  can  see  no 
good  reason  for  resigning  the  major  part  of  it  to 
you.  So,  much  as  I  regret  to  appear  disoblig- 
ing, I  fear  I  must  decline  your  offer." 

For  myself,  I  could  see  no  way  out  of  it. 
With  all  politeness,  this  gentlemanly  highway 
robber  was  demanding  our  money  or  our  lives  ; 
for,  when  all  was  said,  that  was  what  it  came  to. 
We  might  take  our  choice  :  give  up  the  gold  or 
starve  to  death.  There  was  no  third  course  that 
I  could  see. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  Hidalgo,  who  had 
hitherto  stood  silently  by,  went  to  shift  his  po- 
sition, when,  seemingly  by  accident,  his  feet 
slipped,  he  staggered,  and  in  the  effort  to  save 


A  Pistol  Shot  271 

himself  he  sent  the  candle  flying  out  of  my 
hand  with  a  sweep  of  his  arm,  leaving  us  all  in 
total  darkness.  While  I  was  fumbling  in  my 
pocket  for  another  candle,  the  boy  grasped  Stock 
by  the  arm  and  whispered  eagerly  in  his  ear, 
"  To-morrow,  seilor,  to-morrow." 

Stock  patted  him  upon  the  hand  to  show  that 
he  understood,  and  when  I  had  struck  another 
light,  he  looked  up  and  said  : 

"  This  proposal  of  yours  is  pretty  sudden,  Mr. 
Latimer,  and  it's  a  serious  matter.  I  should 
like  to  have  till  to-morrow  to  think  about  it." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Mr.  Latimer,  after  a  lit- 
tle reflection.  "  I  see  no  objection  to  that.  You 
can't  get  out,  I  know ;  the  fact  that  you  offered 
me  part  of  the  gold  just  now  is  evidence  enough 
of  that :  you  would  not  have  done  so  if  you  had 
known  of  a  way  of  escape.  So,"  rising  as  he 
spoke,  *'  I'll  come  back  for  your  answer  some 
time  to-morrow  morning.  Aaron,  pull  that 
pole  a  little  farther  back.  That's  right.  So, 
now,  we'll  be  off".  Good-night,  boys.  See  you 
to-morrow." 

With  that  the  three  men  departed,  while  we, 
creeping  through  the  crack  again,  carried  our 
precious  saddle-bags  back  to  the  cave. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

What  Hidalgo  Thought  in  His  Head 

NOW,  Hidalgo  I  "  cried  Stock.     ''  What  is 
it  ?     Do  you  think  you  see  some  way  of 
getting  us  out  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  little  fellow  instantly. 
"  I  get  us  out.  I  get  us  out,  sir,  I  am  almost- 
yes-quite  sure." 

The  youngster  looked  so  bright  and  eager  that 
our  hopes  rose. 

"  How  ?  "  we  both  asked,  simultaneously. 

"  I  tell  you.  I  tie  me  a  rope  round  me,  and 
you  shall  let  me  down  to  the  little  balco-ny 
down  below " 

"But,"  Stock  objected,  ''we  can't  do  that, 
Hidalgo.  The  upper  balcony  is  four  or  five  feet 
wider  than  the  one  below  ;  you  would  swing 
clear  ;  you  wouldn't  be  able  to  come  near  it." 

"  Ah,  senor  !  "  the  boy  interposed.  "  Wait 
one  little  minute  and  I  tell  you.  It  come  in 
my  head  this  day,  this  ladder  of  Don  Blanco  it 
is  old,  and  I  think,  the  Seiior  Stock  he  is  heavy, 
and  I  say  to  myself,  *  Suppose,  now,  he  shall  go 
272 


What  Hidalgo  Thought  in  his  Head    273 

up  the  ladder  one-fine-day  and  the  ladder  it 
shall  break  in  two-three  pieces  ;  that  shall  be 
very  discomfortable.'  And  I  think  in  my  head, 
'  It  is  good  if  there  shall  be  one  other  way  to  get 
out.'  Then  I  walk  on  the  balco-ny,  and  I  look 
very  sharp,  and  just  close  by  outside  I  find  one 
place  where  the  rock  it  is  thin,  and  I  think  in 
my  head,  '  Ha  !  If  the  ladder  shall  break,  it  is 
here  we  shall  knock  us  a  hole  through  the  bal- 
co-ny and  get  us  down  by  this  way.'  " 

"  That's  all  very  fine,  Hidalgo,"  said  I ;  "  but 
how  are  we  to  break  a  hole  without  any  tools?  " 

"  Senor,"  replied  the  little  fellow,  "  we  have 
tools — there,"  pointing  to  our  wood-pile.  *'  We 
build  us  on  the  balco-ny  one  big  fire ;  then, 
when  the  rock  it  is  very  hot,  we  throw  on  it 
some  cold  water  and  the  rock  it  shall  go  bang- 
smash — it  shall  fly  in  one  thousand  bits." 

"There's  something  in  that.  Stock,"  said  I. 
"  That's  the  way  the  miners  of  Old  Mexico  used 
to  break  rock  before  they  knew  anything  of 
gunpowder.  Besides,  did  you  ever  drop  a  hot 
stone  into  a  bucket  of  water  and  see  how  it  will 
fly  to  pieces?" 

Stock  nodded.  *'  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  suppose 
we  might  break  a  hole  through  the  balcony  in 


274         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

that  way.  But  I  don't  see  that  we  are  any 
better  off  if  we  do.  Suppose  we  let  you  down 
to  the  lower  balcony,  Hidalgo, — what  next? 
You  can't  jump  off  without  breaking  your  neck." 

Hidalgo  smiled  all  over.  *'  Seilor,"  said  he, 
"  again  one  little  minute  and  I  tell  you.  You 
shall  remember  there  is  in  the  little  cave  where 
the  Harpstrings  is,  one  small  hole — what  you 
call  a  '  rabbit-hole.'  I  go  down  there  this  day 
and  I  poke  through  the  hole  one  long  stick. 
Then  I  go  back  on  the  balco-ny  and  I  lay  me 
down  flat,  and  I  stretch  out  my  neck  very  long 
and  I  pe-e-ep  over,  and  I  see  the  stick,  and, 
lo-behold !  it  is  lying  on  the  little  balco-ny 
down  below  !  " 

Hidalgo  paused,  looking  from  one  to  the  other 
of  us  to  see  if  we  yet  divined  his  plan ;  but  as 
we  merely  said,  "  Well  ?  "  he  went  on  : 

"  We  knock  us  a  hole  and  I  get  me  down  to 
the  little  balco-ny.  You  take  then  the  rope  and 
with  the  long  stick  you  poke  it  through  the 
'  rabbit-hole.'  Then  you  shall  hold  very  tight 
one  end,  and  I  shall  slide  me  down  the  rope  to 
the  bottom.  Then,  ver}^  quick,  I  run  round  and 
put  back  the  ladder,  and  then !  " 

He     clapped     his    hands    together,    looking 


What  Hidalgo  Thought  in  his  Head    275 

eagerly  from  Stock  to  me  and  from  me  to  Stock, 
breathless  with  excitement. 

When  at  length  we  understood  his  plan,  we 
were  scarcely  less  excited  than  he  was. 

''  Stock  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  It  looks  possible, 
doesn't  it?" 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  replied  my  partner.  "  We'll 
try  it  anyhow.  It  all  depends  upon  our  being 
able  to  knock  a  hole  through  the  upper  balcony. 
Come  on,  Hidalgo ;  show  us  where  the  rock  is 
thin." 

Hidalgo,  more  than  willing,  led  the  way  out- 
side, and  walking  a  few  steps  along  the  balcony 
on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  waterfall,  went 
down  upon  his  knees,  saying,  "  Here  it  is  where 
we  make  our  fire." 

Close  beside  the  upright  wall  of  rock  which 
towered  one  hundred  feet  above  our  heads,  we 
found  in  the  solid  stone  ledge  a  deep  depression 
about  forty  inches  in  diameter.  It  looked  as 
though,  ages  ago,  when  the  material  composing 
the  ledge  was  yet  soft,  a  big  boulder  had  settled 
into  it,  which  boulder,  afterwards  crumbling  to 
dust,  had  in  course  of  time  been  washed  and 
blown  away,  leaving  tliis  deep  indentation  as 
evidence  of  its  former  presence. 


276  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"  Jamie,"  cried  Stock,  as  he  tapped  upon  the 
rock  with  the  handle  of  his  sheath-knife,  "  it  is 
ever  so  much  thinner  here.  Hark  !  I  believe 
we  can  break  through.     Start  a  fire  !  " 

For  more  than  an  hour  we  kept  a  fierce  fire 
going,  when,  the  stone  bowl  being  full  of  glow- 
ing embers  and  the  rock  all  round  having  be- 
come much  too  hot  to  touch,  we  judged  we 
might  try  the  application  of  cold  water. 
Hidalgo,  therefore,  filled  one  of  the  Mexican 
bowls  and  stood  ready,  while  I  scraped  the  hot 
embers  out  of  the  depression. 

"  Now  !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  Mind  you  your 
eye!" 

"  Mind  your  own,"  was  Stock's  reply,  as  we 
turned  our  backs. 

The  only  answer  was  a  loud  explosion ;  a 
shower  of  rock-chips  and  hot  cinders  rattled 
about  our  ears,  while  a  cloud  of  steam  and  ashes 
half  smothered  us.  Eagerly  we  turned  to  see 
the  result,  and  our  satisfaction  will  be  imagined 
when  we  found  that  a  large,  jagged  hole  had 
been  punched  through  the  balcony. 

The  application  of  a  few  more  bowds  of  water 
soon  cooled  ofi*  the  rock,  when  Stock,  going 
down  upon  his  knees,  peered  through  the  hole. 


What  Hidalgo  Thought  in  his  Head    277 

*'  It  is  all  right,"  said  he ;  "  we  are  directly 
above  the  lower  balcony.  Fetch  the  two  picket- 
ropes,  Jamie,  while  I  knock  off  some  of  these 
sharp  points," 

The  two  ropes,  each  thirty  feet  long,  were 
firmly  knotted  together,  when  Stock,  having 
looped  one  end  around  Hidalgo's  chest,  carefully 
lowered  him  through  the  hole.  Down  he  went, 
sometimes  dangling  clear  and  sometimes  scraping 
against  the  face  of  the  cliff,  until  presently  he 
reached  the  little  ledge  below,  when,  having  freed 
himself  from  the  rope,  he  looked  up  and  cried, 
''  All  right,  senor.  Wait  now  one  little  minute 
till  I  see  if  I  get  me  safe  to  the  '  rabbit-hole.'  " 

So  saying,  he  passed  beneath  the  waterfall, 
but  in  a  "little  minute"  he  was  back  again, 
calling  up  to  us,  '*  It  is  all  right.  I  get  there 
easy  ;  just  so  easy  as  to  tumble  off  a  stump." 

Down  ran  Stock  to  the  little  cave,  pushed  the 
rope  through  the  "  rabbit-hole,"  and  called  to 
Hidalgo  to  go  ahead.  In  another  moment  the 
boy  was  safely  at  the  bottom,  when,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand  to  me,  he  turned,  ran  across  the 
Soup  Kettle  and  vanished  into  the  crevice  on 
the  far  side. 

As  will  be  imagined,  it  did  not  take  us  long 


278  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

to  get  back  to  the  pit,  where,  after  waiting  ten 
minutes,  we  heard  footsteps  approaching,  and  di- 
rectly afterwards  Hidalgo's  smiling  face,  lighted 
up  by  a  candle,  peered  at  us  over  the  edge. 

We  soon  had  the  ladder  in  place  again,  and — 
to  make  a  long  story  short — at  half-past  two  in 
the  morning  we  were  knocking  once  more  at 
the  padre's  hospitable  door. 

Untimely  as  was  the  hour,  our  old  friend  wel- 
comed us  heartily  and  listened  with  much  in- 
terest to  the  details  of  our  adventure. 

"  And  now,"  said  he,  when  we  had  at  length 
concluded  our  story,  "  now  you  must  sleep — the 
longer  the  better.  For  the  present  you  and  the 
gold  are  safe ;  but  we  have  a  difficult  problem 
before  us  :  how  to  get  you  away  from  the  valley. 
You  will  need  clear  heads  to  think  it  out ;  so 
now  to  sleep." 

It  was  late  in  the  day  when  we  reassembled 
for  a  conference  ;  Hidalgo,  much  to  his  gratifica- 
tion, being  summoned  to  the  council. 

"  First  of  all,"  said  the  padre,  "  I  must  tell 
you  that  Mr.  Latimer  has  found  out  where  you 
are.  This  morning  I  sent  out  a  young  man  into 
the  sand-hills  to  watch.  He  reports  that  he  saw 
three  men  approach  the  castle    and  disappear 


What  Hidalgo  Thought  in  his  Head    279 

into  the  passage.  In  two  or  three  minutes,  how- 
ever, they  were  out  again  and  galloping  in  this 
direction.  About  half  a  mile  away  two  of  them 
stopped,  while  the  third  came  on,  and  having 
ridden  all  round  the  village,  rejoined  his  com- 
panions, when  they  all  went  off  together  in  the 
direction  of  Casa  Grande.  The  man  who  rode 
round  the  village  was  The  Fox.  You  can  guess 
his  object,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,"  said  Stock.  "  I  understand.  The  Fox 
found  our  trail  leading  into  Obispo  and  made  a 
circuit  of  the  place  to  see  whether  it  led  out 
again.     As  it  didn't,  he  knows  we  are  still  here." 

''  Exactly,"  replied  the  padre.  "  And  as  Mr. 
Latimer  has  taken  the  trouble  to  find  out  where 
you  are,  it  is  safe  to  conclude  that  we  have  not 
yet  done  with  him.  He  will  try  to  waylay  you 
when  you  leave." 

"  Well,"  remarked  Stock,  "  one  thing  seems 
clear  :  if  we  try  to  get  off  by  daylight  Mr,  Latimer 
will  certainly  see  us  out  on  this  flat  valley,  so  the 
only  alternative  will  be  to  start  after  nightfall." 

"  I  foresee  a  difficulty  in  that,  too,"  said  the 
padre.  "  Mr.  Latimer  has  a  score  or  more  of 
half-wild  cowmen  in  his  pay,  Mexicans,  Indians 
and  half-breeds,  and  I  expect,  as  soon  as  night 


2  8o         Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

falls,  he  will  picket  this  village  all  round,  so 
that  no  one  may  get  away  without  his  knowing 
it." 

"  How  can  we  find  out  if  he  does  ?  "  asked 
Stock. 

"  We  might  manage  that,  I  think,"  said  I. 
"  Let  us  make  a  false  start  to-night — leaving  the 
jars  here,  of  course — go  a  little  way  and  come 
back.  If  there  should  be  any  watchers  we  might 
get  sight  of  them." 

"  That  is  not  a  bad  idea,"  remarked  the  padre. 
"  I  would  suggest  that  as  soon  as  it  is  dark  you 
ride  as  far  as  the  castle ;  by  the  time  you  reach 
it  the  moon  will  be  up  and  by  getting  into  the 
deep  shadow  of  the  west  wall  and  waiting  there 
half  an  hour  you  may  be  able  to  see  if  any  one 
is  following  you." 

"  We'll  do  it !  "  cried  Stock.  "  I  don't  think 
there  is  much  danger  that  Mr.  Latimer  will  try 
to  waylay  us  down  here  in  the  flat  valley,  where 
the  villagers  of  Obispo  might  possibly  interfere  ; 
it  will  be  in  the  pass  that  he  will  try  to  ambush 
us." 

''  Yes,  I  think  that  is  pretty  sure,"  the  padre 
assented.  "  So  you  shall  try  the  experiment  to- 
night." 


What  Hidalgo  Thought  in   his   Head    281 

It  was  profoundly  dark  when  we  started,  and 
not  a  sound  did  we  hear  nor  any  sign  of  human 
being  did  we  see,  until,  after  a  long  wait  in  the 
shadow  of  the  castle  wall,  the  sharp-eyed  Hi- 
dalgo whispered  : 

"  Look-see  !  One  little  fire  out  on  the  edge  of 
the  sand-hills !  " 

"What  does  that  mean,  do  you  suppose?" 
asked  Stock. 

"  I  think,  sir.  The  Fox  he  follow  us,  though 
we  do  not  see  him — the  old  Indian  he  know 
quite  well  how  to  keep  himself  hid — and  when 
he  find  we  go  this  way  he  run  quick  and  light 
one  little  fire  to  tell  Mr.  Latimer  which  way  we 

go." 

"  I  see.  A  prearranged  signal.  And  I  sup- 
pose all  Mr.  Latimer's  pickets  are  now  riding  as 
hard  as  they  can  to  get  into  the  pass  ahead  of  us." 

"  I  think  yes,  senor." 

"  Then  we  may  as  well  go  back,"  said  I. 
**  We've  found  out  all  we  can." 

"Wait  a  bit,"  Stock  interposed.  "I'll  tell 
you  what  I  should  like  to  do,  Jamie.  If  you 
two  will  keep  guard  at  the  entrance,  I  should 
like  to  go  up  to  the  cave  once  more  and  bring 
away  all  the  things  we  left  behind." 


282 


Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 


Though  I  did  not  at  all  like  the  idea,  for  it 
seemed  to  me  to  be  taking  a  needless  risk  for  the 
sake  of  a  few  blankets  and  a  cooking- pot  or  two, 
Stock  was  so  urgent  that  at  last  I  gave  in  ;  and 
though  my  fears  turned  out  to  be  groundless,  it 
was  an  anxious  half-hour  I  spent  before  he  came 
out  of  the  passage  again  carrying  a  bulky  bundle 
over  his  shoulder. 

''  Woosh ! "  went  he,  blowing  out  his  breath 
like  the  exhaust  of  a  steam-engine.  "  I  tell  you 
that's  heavy.  I  brought  away  the  quicksilver 
too,  Jamie  ;  no  use  leaving  it  for  Mr.  Latimer." 
"  That's  true,"  said  I.  "  We  shan't  be  able  to 
carry  it  out  of  the  valley  ourselves,  but  perhaps 
the  padre  may  find  a  use  for  it.  Come  on,  now, 
let's  get  back." 

It  was  not  until  we  reached  the  village  again 
that  it  occurred  to  us  that  we  had  been  rather 
inconsiderate  of  the  padre,  for,  what  with  the 
time  occupied  in  bringing  the  things  out  of  the 
cave  and  the  slowness  of  our  return  journey, 
we  were  very  late  in  getting  in  and  our  host  was 
becoming  uneasy  at  our  prolonged  absence.  It 
hit  us  all  the  harder,  too,  when  the  unselfish 
old  man,  instead  of  taking  us  to  task,  as  he 
had   so  good  an  excuse  for  doing,  thanked  us 


What  Hidalgo  Thought  in  his  Head    283 

for  our  thoughtfuhiess  in  bringing  away  the 
quicksilver  for  his  benefit. 

"Put  the  jars  down  there  by  the  fireplace,  if 
you  please,  Stock,"  said  he.  "That's  right. 
Now,  throw  this  old  rug  over  them." 

Stock  did  as  requested,  remarking,  "  I  hope 
the  stuff  has  some  value  ;  there's  a  good  deal  of 
it.  Both  jars  are  plum  full,  sir,  and  it's  precious 
heavy  stuff." 

"  Full,  are  they  !  "  exclaimed  the  padre  with 
sudden  interest.     "  Ah  !  " 

Why  he  should  say  "  Ah  !  "  like  that  we  could 
not  understand  ;  nor  did  we  feel  at  all  enlight- 
ened when,  after  pacing  up  and  down  the  room 
a  time  or  two,  he  stopped  in  front  of  us,  eyed  us 
quizzically  for  a  moment,  and  then,  very  much 
to  our  surprise,  broke  into  a  quiet  laugh.  We 
looked  at  him  inquiringly  ;  but  whatever  the 
joke  might  be,  he  seemed  disposed  to  keep  it  to 
himself,  for,  still  chuckling  softly,  all  he  said 
was,  "  Now,  boys,  to  bed.  To-morrow  night  you 
start  in  earnest." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

In  Prison  and  Out 

IT  occurred  to  me  when  we  met  next  morning 
that  the  padre  must  have  passed  a  sleepless 
night  :  he  looked  tired  and  rather  worn.  He 
was  as  cheerful  as  usual,  however,  and  as 
thoughtful  for  our  comfort ;  and,  moreover,  if 
he  w^as  feeling  tired,  his  mind  was  clear  as  to 
how  we  were  to  proceed. 

"  I  feel  pretty  sure,"  said  he,  "  that  Mr.  Lat- 
imer will  think  you  were  bound  for  the  Obispo 
pass  last  night,  but  took  alarm  and  came  back  ; 
in  which  case  it  would  not  surprise  him  if  3'oa 
were  next  to  try  the  pass  at  the  head  of  the 
range.  I  suggest,  therefore,  that  to-night  3'ou 
ride  straight  northward  for  one  hour — that  will 
give  his  spies  time  enough  to  make  sure  which 
way  you  are  going — and  then  turn  short  to  your 
right,  pass  behind  the  castle,  and  so  to  the  Obispo 
pass." 

"  That's  a  good  idea,  sir,"  replied  Stock  ;  "  and 
I  hope  they'll  decide  quickly  that  we  are  bound 
for  the  northern  pass,  because  then  they  will 
284 


In   Prison  and  Out  285 

come  thundering  after  us  and  perhaps  over-ride 
our  trail  in  the  dark," 

"  Precisely,"  assented  the  padre,  adding  :  "  If 
at  any  time  before  the  hour  is  up  you  should 
see  a  signal-fire  behind  you,  turn  off  at  once." 

''  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Stock. 

"  Now,  dear  boys,"  continued  the  padre  very 
earnestly,  "  you  Avill  wonder  that  I  should  sug- 
gest this  course  when  I  add  that  after  thinking 
all  night  about  it,  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that,  while  you  may  get  clear  off  to-night,  the 
chances  are  that  you  will  be  captured." 

At  this  unexpected  conclusion  our  counte- 
nances fell  to  such  a  degree  that  the  old  gentle- 
man, in  spite  of  his  earnestness,  could  not  re- 
press a  smile.  "  But,"  he  continued,  "  that  does 
not  necessarily  mean  the  loss  of  the  treasure. 
If  you  will  promise  me  to  follow  my  instructions, 
I,  on  my  part,  promise — however  appearances 
may  be  to  the  contrary — that  Mr.  Latimer  shall 
not  succeed  in  carrying  off  the  gold." 

This  seemed  to  us  like  a  pretty  rash  promise, 
and  I  suppose  the  expression  on  our  faces  in- 
dicated as  much,  for  the  padre,  nodding  his  head 
three  or  four  times,  went  on  : 

"  Yes,   yes.     I  know.     Nevertheless  " — lean- 


286  Dale  and   Fraser,  Sheepmen 

ing  forward  and  laying  his  slim  fingers  upon 
Stock's  big,  red  fist — "  nevertheless,  I  promise." 

"  Then  that  settles  it,"  cried  Stock.  "  You 
give  the  orders,  sir,  and  we'll  follow  them." 

"  Good ! "  exclaimed  the  padre,  evidently 
much  gratified.  "  Then  these  are  my  instruc- 
tions— they  are  very  simple :  If  you  are 
captured,  do  not  resist ;  and  the  moment  you 
are  at  liberty,  come  straight  back  to  me.  That 
is  all." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  replied  Stock  and  I,  together. 
"  We'll  do  so." 

As  we  should  require  a  pack-animal  to  carry 
the  saddle-bags,  Hidalgo  procured  for  us  an  old 
burro  belonging  to  his  grandfather ;  a  wizened 
little  rat  of  a  donkey  which,  though  bony  and 
gray  about  the  nose,  was  wonderfully  tough  and 
enduring,  and  was,  Hidalgo  assured  us,  well 
able  to  carry  the  weight  of  the  two  jars. 

Everything  being  now  ready,  we  waited  im- 
patiently for  nightfall.  The  great  red  sun  at  last 
slipped  down  behind  the  western  range,  and  an 
hour  later  we  were  on  our  way,  Hidalgo  leading 
the  little  burro,  across  whose  pack-saddle  our 
precious  freight  had  been  laid  and  tightly  se- 
cured   with     rope.      Slowly    but    steadily   we 


WE    SAW,    FAR    BEHIND    US,     LIKE    PIN-HOLES 
POINTS    OF    FIRE" 


TWO   TWINKLING 


In  Prison  and  Out  287 

plodded  along  in  the  darkness,  until  presently 
Hidalgo,  who  had  been  looking  back,  exclaimed  : 

"  Two  fires,  sefiores  !  " 

Turning  in  our  saddles,  we  saw,  far  behind  us, 
like  pin-holes  in  the  black  curtain  of  night,  two 
twinkling  points  of  fire. 

"  Good  !  "  cried  Stock.  "  Two  fires  this  time. 
That  must  mean  that  we  have  gone  north.  So 
here  is  where  we  turn  off.  Lead  the  way, 
Hidalgo ;  you  are  more  likely  to  find  the  castle 
in  the  dark  than  we  are." 

In  course  of  time  we  reached  the  castle,  passed 
behind  it,  and  made  our  way  southward  over 
the  steep,  rough  mountain  spurs.  Our  progress 
through  the  dark  woods,  however,  was  so  very 
slow  that  we  were  still  a  long  way  short  of  the 
pass  when  the  reddening  of  the  sky  proclaimed 
that  daylight  was  coming ;  so,  the  little  burro 
showing  evident  signs  that  she  had  carried  her 
load  far  enough  for  one  day,  we  went  into  camp 
in  the  first  likely  spot  we  came  to — a  secluded 
hollow  set  about  with  solemn  ranks  of  tree- 
trunks. 

Nothing  occurred  to  disturb  us,  and  a  little 
after  noon  that  day  we  were  about  to  resume  our 
journey  when  the  sudden  snapping  of  a  dead 


288         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

stick  made  us  all  turn.  A  moment  later  there 
emerged  from  among  the  trees  a  short,  fat,  pom- 
pous-looking little  man — a  Mexican — who,  ad- 
vancing towards  us,  stopped  at  about  six  feet 
distance,  took  off"  his  hat  with  a  flourish,  and 
said,  in  unexpectedly  good  English  ; 

"  Gentlemen,  good-morning.  I  am  Don 
Alonzo  Garcia,  alcalde  of  Casa  Grande.  It  is 
my  painful  duty  as  an  officer  of  the  law  to  arrest 
you  on  the  charge  of  attempting  to  make  away 
with  stolen  property." 

"  What !  "  shouted  Stock,  with  such  suddenness 
that  the  little  man  bounced  backwards  several 
feet,  as  though  a  fire-cracker  had  been  set  off 
under  his  nose. 

By  way  of  reply,  he  uttered  a  call,  patting  his 
mouth  with  his  hand  after  the  manner  of  the 
Indians,  and  in  response  there  issued  from 
among  the  trees  about  us  twelve  horsemen — 
hard,  wiry,  brown-faced  fellows,  all  armed  with 
guns  of  various  kinds  and  ages.  At  a  sign  from 
the  alcalde  they  stopped  and  sat,  stiff  and  silent, 
like  a  circle  of  bronze  statues. 

The  alcalde,  whose  dignity  had  been  some- 
what jolted  by  Stock's  suddenness,  now  recov- 
ered himself,  and  waving  his  hands,  first  to  the 


In  Prison  and  Out  289 

right  and  then  to  the  left,  to  call  our  attention 
to  the  force  at  his  disposal,  he  again  addressed 
us  with  surprising  fluency  and  precision  of  lan- 
guage. 

"  You  will  observe,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  that 
resistance  is  out  of  the  question.  I  must  ask 
you,  therefore,  to  be  good  enough  to  accompany 
me  quietly  to  the  house  of  Mr.  James  Latimer, 
the  gentleman  who  brings  this  charge  against 
you,  when  I  have  no  doubt  the  matter  will  be 
soon  satisfactorily  arranged  and  you  will  be  at 
liberty  to  resume  the  journey  which  it  has  been 
my  misfortune  as  an  officer  of  the  law  to  inter- 
rupt." 

Stock  cast  a  glance  around.  Irrespective  of 
our  promise  to  the  padre,  it  was  plain  that  we 
could  not  resist  if  we  would.  It  was  equally 
plain  that  we  could  not  run.  With  a  glance  at 
me,  therefore,  and  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  No  help  for  it,  Jamie,"  he  re- 
plied, "  Very  well,  Senor  Alcalde,  we'll  come." 

The  little  man  appeared  to  be  much  relieved 
by  this  decision.  He  bustled  about  arranging 
the  procession,  and  soon  the  cavalcade  was  on 
the  march.  Passing  through  the  town  of  Casa 
Grande,  whose  inhabitants  all  came  out  to  stare 


290         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

at  us,  we  arrived  about  sunset  at  Mr.  Latimer's 
house,  a  large  adobe  building  consisting  of  sev- 
eral connected  rooms  set  around  three  sides  of 
a  square,  the  remaining  side,  which  faced  the 
sand-hills,  being  left  vacant. 

A  door  in  one  of  the  rooms  which  formed  the 
western  wing  was  thrown  open  and  we  were  re- 
quested to  enter.  For  a  moment  we  hesitated, 
but  a  glance  at  the  number  of  our  captors  con- 
vincing us  that  we  could  not  help  ourselves,  we 
stepped  across  the  threshold,  when  the  door  was 
instantly  shut  and  locked  on  the  outside. 

The  room  in  which  we  found  ourselves  had 
been  evidently  for  a  long  time  disused,  for  in  one 
place  the  cedar  boughs  and  much  of  the  soil  of 
which  the  roof  was  composed  had  fallen  in, 
leaving  a  gap  through  which  the  fading  day- 
light came — the  only  place  where  it  could  come 
in  when  the  door  was  shut.  It  seemed  like  a 
pretty  safe  prison,  for  the  walls  were  three  feet 
thick  and  very  high. 

For  the  first  few  minutes  we  stood  by  the 
door,  listening.  We  heard  the  tramp  of  the 
horses  as  the  escort  rode  off  to  the  stables  behind 
the  house,  and  after  that  all  was  silent. 

"  Well,  Stock,"  said  I,  "  what  do  you  think  of 


In   Prison  and  Out  291 

it?  It  looks  as  though  Mr.  Latimer  were  in  a 
fair  way  to  win  the  game.  What,  do  you  sup- 
pose, will  be  his  next  move?" 

"  It  is  my  belief,"  replied  Stock,  "  that  our  ar- 
rest is  all  part  of  a  scheme  of  Mr.  Latimer's,  and 
now  that  he  has  the  treasure  in  his  hands,  I  ex- 
pect he  will  skip  out  after  dark  for  parts  un- 
known, and  to-morrow,  when  he  is  safe  away, 
we  shall  be  let  out." 

"  That's  about  it,  I  expect.  I  wonder  if  the 
padre  foresaw  this  state  of  affairs.  He  seemed 
very  confident,  but  it  looks  as  though  his  infalli- 
ble plan  had  missed  fire." 

'*  He  must  have  anticipated  something  of  the 
sort,"  replied  my  partner.  "  And  though  it  cer- 
tainly does  look  as  if  we  had  lost  the  game,  it  is 
my  belief  that  the  padre  still  has  a  trump  card 
up  his  sleeve.  Whether  he  has  or  not,  though, 
we  may  as  well  have  a  try  at  stealing  back  the 
treasure  ourselves  if  Mr.  Latimer  will  only  wait 
here  until  it  gets  a  little  darker." 

''  I  don't  see  how  we  are  to  get  a  chance," 
said  I. 

"  Well,  as  soon  as  it  gets  dark,"  my  partner 
began,  "  we'll  see  if  we  can't  get  out " 

"  How  ?  "  I  interjected. 


292  Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

"  Through  that  hole  up  there,"  pointing  to 
the  gap  in  the  roof. 

"  How  ?  "  I  asked  again. 

In  whispered  tones  my  partner  explained  his 
plan,  and  though  I  felt  rather  doubtful  of  its 
practicability,  it  was  with  a  good  deal  of  im- 
patience that  I  waited  for  the  darkness  to  give 
us  an  opportunity  to  put  it  to  the  test. 

A  long  period  of  waiting  ensued,  our  room 
grew  more  and  more  gloomy,  until  at  length, 
looking  up  through  the  hole  in  the  roof,  we  saw 
a  star  or  two  glinting  in  the  sky. 

"  Now,"  said  Stock,  "  let  us  make  a  try." 

Taking  his  stand  upon  the  heap  of  boughs 
and  earth  which  had  fallen  from  above,  he 
placed  his  hands  against  the  wall,  and  turning 
to  me,  said  : 

"  Now,  Jamie,  climb  up  and  stand  upon  my 
shoulders,  and  then,  Hidalgo,  you  climb  up  too 
and  see  if  you  can  reach  the  top  of  the  wall." 

With  some  trouble  I  clambered  up,  when,  as 
soon  as  I  had  secured  a  firm  stand,  the  active 
little  Mexican  scrambled  up  and  stood  erect 
upon  my  shoulders.  He  had  not  been  there  a 
moment,  however,  when  he  looked  down  and 
whispered: 


In   Prison  and  Out  293 

"  I  cannot  reach,  senor.  I  am  one  foot  too 
little." 

"  Stand  steady,  then,"  replied  Stock.  "  Set 
your  feet  in  my  hands,  Jamie.  Now  then, 
steady  !  " 

With  that,  while  Hidalgo  and  I  clawed  at  the 
wall,  my  muscular  partner,  by  main  strength, 
lifted  us  both  to  arm's  length  above  his  head — 
a  feat  which  even  I,  who  knew  him  so  well, 
had  never  supposed  he  could  perform.  The 
next  instant  the  pressure  was  removed  from  my 
shoulders,  Hidalgo  said  softly,  "  All  right, 
seiior,"  and  Stock  lowered  me  to  the  ground 
again. 

"  Anybody  about,  Hidalgo?"  asked  he  of  the 
boy,  who  was  lying  flat  on  the  top  of  the  wall. 

"  I  see  only  Mr.  Latimer,  senor.  He  sit  in 
his  room  with  the  door  open.  He  talk  very 
loud  with  somebody  ;  I  think  it  is  the  alcalde. 
It  seem  to  me  they  are  a  good  bit  squabble- 
some." 

"  Good  !  Let  them  squabble.  When  thieves 
fall  out,  honest  men  ma}^  have  a  chance  to  come 
by  their  own.  Can  you  drop  from  the  wall, 
Hidalgo,  without  hurting  yourself?" 

"  Oh,  I  drop  all  right,  seiior,"  replied  the  boy. 


294         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

**  Very  well,  then.  Don't  make  any  more 
noise  than  you  can  help." 

For  answer,  Hidalgo  waved  his  hand  and 
vanished.  There  was  a  soft  thud  outside,  and 
the  next  moment  we  heard  the  rusty  key  slowly 
turned  in  the  rusty  lock,  the  door  opened  and 
in  popped  the  little  Mexican. 

'*  Well  done,"  said  Stock.  "  Did  they  hear 
you?" 

"  No,  senor ;  thej^  make  too  much  noise  them- 
selves ;  they  talk  very  loud  and  bang  the  table." 

Stock  pushed  the  door  a  little  way  open  and 
we  both  peeped  out.  One  room  at  the  far  end 
of  the  courtyard  was  lighted  by  a  lamp,  and 
through  the  open  doorway  we  could  see  Mr. 
Latimer  seated  before  his  desk  with  his  back  to 
us.  Presently  he  half  turned  in  his  chair,  and 
shaking  his  finger  in  a  threatening  manner, 
made  some  very  emphatic  remark  to  an  in- 
visible companion.  Instantly  the  shadow  of 
the  alcade  appeared  upon  the  window-curtain. 
We  could  hear  him  bawling  some  angry  reply, 
while  he  accompanied  his  remarks  with  violent 
gesticulations.  Then  ensued  a  great  racket, 
both  talking  at  once  at  the  tops  of  their  voices, 
one  thumping  his  desk  and  the  other  a  table. 


In   Prison  and  Out  295 

Suddenly  Mr.  Latimer  sprang  from  his  chair, 
strode  to  the  door,  and  leaning  out,  shouted, 
"  Aaron !  " 

A  door  on  that  side  of  the  courtyard  opposite 
to  us  opened  and  Aaron  came  running  to  the 
call.  He  bounced  into  the  room,  and  the  next 
moment  out  tumbled  the  poor  little  alcalde, 
struggling  in  vain  in  the  grasp  of  the  big  negro. 
Mr.  Latimer  ran  and  opened  a  door  on  our  side 
of  the  courtyard,  into  the  room  the  alcalde  was 
bundled,  and  the  door  was  shut  and  locked. 

Master  and  man  returned  to  their  respective 
quarters ;  but  just  as  Aaron  was  closing  his 
door,  Mr.  Latimer  called  him  back. 

"  Aaron,"  said  he,  loud  enough  for  us  to  hear, 
"  we  may  as  well  be  getting  off.  Go  and  saddle 
your  horse  and  mine,  and  put  a  pack-saddle  on 
The  Major ;  that  little  burro  is  no  good.  And, 
Aaron,  tell  The  Fox  to  feed  the  alcalde  and  the 
boys  and  let  them  out  as  early  as  he  likes  in  the 
morning." 

"  Very  good,  sah,"  replied  Aaron  ;  and  so  say- 
ing he  marched  out  of  the  courtyard,  a  cheerful 
grin  overspreading  his  countenance  as  he  heard 
the  imprisoned  alcalde  set  up  a  great  shouting 
and  banging  with  his  fists  upon  the  door. 


296  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

Mr,  Latimer,  who  had  been  about  to  enter  his 
own  room,  stopped,  considered  a  moment,  and 
then,  walking  back,  gave  one  heavy  thump 
upon  the  prisoner's  door. 

"Garcia,"  he  called  out,  "stop  that  noise! 
Now,  look  here  :  if  you  like  to  behave  yourself 
I'll  let  you  out.  I'm  not  going  to  share  the  spoils 
with  you,  or  any  ridiculous  thing  of  that  sort,  so 
you  needn't  think  it,  but  I'm  still  ready  to  give 
you  the  twenty  dollars  I  promised  you  in  the 
first  place.  Now,  what  do  you  say  ?  Take  your 
choice.  Come  out  and  be  reasonable,  or  stay 
where  you  are." 

We  could  not  hear  the  answer,  but  presumably 
it  was  favorable,  for  Mr.  Latimer  opened  the  door 
and  stood  leaning  forward,  his  head  inside  the 
room,  one  hand  on  the  door-post  and  the  other 
holding  the  edge  of  the  door. 

Here  was  our  chance !  Out  leaped  Stock, 
ran  silently  up  the  earth-floored  courtyard, 
and  coming  up  behind  Mr.  Latimer,  gave 
him  a  vigorous  boost  which  sent  him  flying 
into  the  dark  room.  In  two  strides  he  en- 
countered the  little  alcalde,  whom  he  clasped 
violently  around  the  neck,  and  down  they  both 
went  in  a  heap  ! 


In   Prison  and  Out  297 

Stock  slapped  to  the  door,  locked  it,  and  flung 
away  the  key. 

"  The  horses  !  The  horses  !  "  he  called  eagerly 
but  softly  to  us,  and  then  turned  and  ran  to- 
wards Mr.  Latimer's  room ;  while  Hidalgo  and  I 
bolted  out  of  the  yard. 

Our  horses  and  the  little  burro  were  still 
standing  tied  to  the  hitching-pole,  and  by  the 
time  we  had  loosed  them,  out  came  Stock  with 
the  saddle-bags  over  his  shoulder.  The  bags 
were  flung  across  the  burro's  back — there  was  no 
time  to  tie  them — and  away  we  went  for  Obispo, 
as  quickly  and  as  quietly  as  we  could  ;  our  pro- 
ceedings accelerated  by  a  terriffic  banging  and 
shouting  from  the  upper  end  of  the  courtyard. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

The  Padre's  Little  Trap 

THE  little  burro  was  hustled  along  at  her  best 
pace,  and  we  had  made  the  greater  part  of  a 
mile,  when  the  banging  and  shouting  behind  us, 
which  up  to  this  time  had  continued  without  in- 
termission, suddenly  ceased.  For  a  couple  of 
minutes  all  was  silent,  and  then  there  came  a 
renewed  banging,  much  louder  and  more  dis- 
tinct than  before.  We  looked  at  each  other  in- 
quiringly. 

"  It  is  Aaron,"  remarked  Hidalgo.  "  He 
break  in  the  door  with  an  axe." 

"That's  it,"  cried  Stock.  "Get  up,  old 
lady  !  " 

The  poor  little  burro,  much  against  her  will, 
was  forced  into  a  shuffling  run,  and  we  had 
made  another  half-mile  perhaps,  when  Hidalgo, 
who  had  been  looking  back,  said  quietly  : 

"  Some  one  come." 

Truly  some  one  did  come — like  a  hurricane. 
It  was  Aaron ;  and  a  bold  horseman  he  was  to 
ride  at  such  a  reckless  pace  in  the  darkness. 
298 


The  Padre's  Little  Trap  299 

Within  a  few  seconds  after  we  first  got  sight  of 
him  he  had  caught  up  with  us.  Galloping  past 
us,  he  very  skilfully  whirled  his  horse  round 
and  dragged  him  back  upon  his  haunches 
just  under  our  horses'  noses.  It  was  finely 
done. 

The  little  burro,  of  course,  having  so  excellent 
an  excuse,  instantly  stopped ;  but  Stock,  springing 
from  the  saddle,  dashed  to  the  front  and  hitting 
Aaron's  horse  a  sounding  smack,  caused  it  to 
jump  forward,  clearing  the  course  again  for  us. 
At  this,  however,  Aaron  himself  leaped  to  the 
ground  and  ran  forward,  evidently  with  the  in- 
tention of  seizing  either  the  burro  or  the  saddle- 
bags ;  seeing  which.  Stock  grasped  him  by  the 
belt  as  he  passed  and  whirled  him  away,  with 
such  force  that  after  taking  half  a  dozen  gigan- 
tic strides  in  a  vain  effort  to  save  himself,  he  at 
last  fell  upon  his  hands  and  knees  in  the  sand. 

He  was  up  again  in  a  moment,  however,  and 
rushed  at  Stock,  thinking  to  bear  him  down  by 
his  superior  weight.  But  never  did  Mr. 
Latimer's  faithful  servitor  make  a  greater  mis- 
take. Aaron  was  by  far  the  strongest  man  in  all 
that  part  of  the  country  ;  for  years  he  had  been 
accustomed    to    see  everybody  give  way  before 


300         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

him.  Immense  therefore  was  his  astonishment 
when  Stock,  by  some  wrestler's  trick  unknown 
to  me — or  Aaron — ducked  under  his  arms, 
clasped  him  around  the  thighs,  and  with  one 
vigorous  heave  pitched  him  clean  over  his 
shoulder.  With  whirling  arms  the  ponderous 
negro  went  flying  through  the  air,  landing  flat 
upon  his  back  with  a  thud  and  a  grunt,  every 
atom  of  breath  jolted  out  of  his  body. 

*'  Go  on  !  "  roared  Stock  ;  and  on  we  went ;  the 
little  burro,  urged  with  persuasive  pokes,  scut- 
tling along  as  she  had  seldom  scuttled  before. 

We  had  gained  a  couple  of  hundred  yards, 
perhaps,  when,  looking  back,  we  saw  that  Aaron 
was  up  again,  had  caught  his  horse  and  was 
after  us  once  more.  It  was  in  vain  that  Stock 
interposed  himself  between  us  and  our  pursuer. 
Aaron  rode  directly  at  him  and  he  was  forced 
to  jump  aside  to  avoid  being  ridden  down. 
Though  he  grasped  at  the  bridle  as  the  horse 
passed,  the  skilful  cowman  deftly  avoided  him 
and  dashing  in  among  us,  ranged  up  alongside 
the  burro,  when,  hardly  checking  his  speed,  he 
cast  himself  from  the  saddle,  grasped  the  donkey 
around  her  neck  and  pushed  her  round  until 
she  faced  the  wrong  way. 


The  Padre's  Little  Trap  301 

111  rushed  Stock  and  attempted  to  pull  him 
away  ;  but  Aaron,  with  his  knees  tucked  up  and 
his  head  tucked  down,  had  such  a  firm  hold 
that  nothing  less  than  a  pair  of  draft-horses 
pulling  in  opposite  directions  could  have  torn 
loose  his  grasp. 

Seeing  this,  and  noticing  also  that  Aaron, 
with  his  head  tucked  down,  could  not  see  what 
was  going  on  behind  him,  Stock  quietly  lifted 
the  saddle-bags  from  the  burro's  back,  hoisted 
them  upon  his  own  horse,  and  away  we  silently 
slipped,  leaving  the  unsuspecting  negro  ridicu- 
lously embracing  the  ancient  donkey,  quite  un- 
aware that  the  longer  he  stood  there  the  farther 
he  was  being  left  behind. 

But  though  Aaron  had  been  out-generaled, 
he  had,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  accomplished  the 
object  with  which  he  had  been  sent  forward, 
namely,  to  delay  our  progress  until  Mr.  Latimer 
himself  could  overtake  us.  In  vain  we  urged 
our  horses  onward  ;  Stock  on  foot  running  be- 
side his  own  pony,  holding  on  by  the  stirrup- 
leather.  We  had  not  gone  far  ere  we  heard  be- 
hind us  the  thunder  of  galloping  horses,  and 
within  five  minutes  after  we  had  got  clear  of 
Aaron  we  found  ourselves  headed  off  and  sur- 


302         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

rounded  by  Mr.  Latimer  and  his  barefooted 
squad  of  armed  cowmen.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  give  in,  and  Stock,  who  during  his 
little  "  scrap "  with  Aaron  had  forgotten  the 
padre's  doctrine  of  non-resistance,  now  be- 
thought himself  of  it  once  more,  and  shoving 
his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets  with  an  angry 
grunt,  he  stood  frowning  at  our  persistent 
enemy. 

Mr.  Latimer  himself  seemed  to  have  lost  some 
of  his  wonted  urbanity.  Perhaps  he  felt  hurt 
at  having  been  boosted  into  the  dark  room  with 
such  force  and  suddenness  ;  for  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  Stock  had  not  been  exactly  gentle, 
and  a  thump  on  the  back,  even  from  his  open 
palm,  was  no  joke.  Whatever  the  cause,  Mr. 
Latimer  seemed  rather  put  out. 

''  Now,  young  fellow,"  said  he,  "  we've  had 
enough  of  this.  I  dare  say  you  think  yourself 
justified  by  the  circumstances,  but  after  the 
consideration  I  have  shown  you,  allow  me  to 
say  that  your  own  conduct  has  been  somewhat 
rough,  not  to  say  unmannerly." 

This  aspersion  of  his  good  manners  aroused 
Stock's  ire. 

''  Perhaps  I  was  a  little  rough,"  said  he ;  *'  but 


The  Padre's  Little  Trap  303 

then  I've  never  had  any  dealings  before  with  a 
gentlemanly  robber." 

"  Robber !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Latimer.  "  Come, 
come,  that  won't  do.  I  can  make  allowances  for 
you,  but  before  you  talk  of  robbers  you  had  bet- 
ter remember  that  there  is  a  charge  of  robbery 
still  hanging  over  yourself.  If  I  should  send 
you  back  to  the  alcalde  you  might  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  clear  yourself — he  is  a  vengeful  little 
man.  Do  you  know  that  when  you  pushed  me 
through  that  doorway  just  now  I  knocked  the 
alcalde  over  backwards  and  nearly  broke  his 
skull  against  the  floor  ?  He  is  persuaded  that 
his  head  is  cracked,  and  I  left  him  five  minutes 
ago  holding  the  pieces  together  with  both 
hands." 

At  the  recollection  Mr.  Latimer  laughed  in 
spite  of  himself  All  his  good  humor  returned 
in  a  moment,  and  in  his  accustomed  pleasant 
way  he  resumed  :  "  But  I  am  not  vindictive, 
and  I  have  no  intention  of  sending  you  back. 
You  may  go  on  to  Obispo  as  soon  as  you  like. 
For  myself,  I  am  southward  bound — and  it  is 
high  time  I  started.  Aaron  !  You  may  as  well 
go  ahead  at  once." 

Aaron,  who  had  rejoined  the  party,  thereupon 


304         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

set  off,  leading  a  pack-horse  across  whose  back 
the  saddle-bags  had  been  placed.  With  pro- 
found misgivings  we  watched  his  departure,  for, 
in  spite  of  the  padre's  assurance  to  the  contrary, 
we  could  not  avoid  the  conviction  that  this 
time,  surely,  we  had  lost  Don  Blanco's  treasure 
for  good  and  all. 

Mr.  Latimer  was  evidently  of  the  same 
opinion. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  he,  "  I'll  be  saying  *  good- 
bye.' I  doubt  if  we  shall  ever  meet  again. 
Give  my  kind  regards  to  my  excellent  old 
friend,  the  padre,  and  tell  him  that  the  next 
time  he  attempts  to  outwit  a  man  of  my  experi- 
ence he  will  do  well  to  select  sharper  tools. 
And  now — Adios.^^ 

All  this  time  Stock  had  been  fuming  and 
chafing,  but  at  this  point  his  temper  suddenly 
boiled  over.  As  Mr.  Latimer  waved  his  hand 
to  us,  Stock  shook  his  fist  back  at  him  and 
cried  angrily  : 

"  You  may  think  you've  seen  the  last  of  us, 
but  you'd  better  not  make  too  sure  of  that,  Mr. 
James  Latimer  White  !  " 

"What's  that?"  cried  Mr.  Latimer,  whirling 
his  horse  round. 


The  Padre's  Little  Trap  305 

For  a  moment  I  feared  there  was  going  to  be 
trouble,  but  with  admirable  self-command  our 
adversary  recovered  himself  and  nodding,  said  : 

"  Many  thanks  for  your  warning.  Now  I 
know  we  shan't  meet  again.     Good-bye." 

With  that  he  turned  his  horse  once  more  and 
galloped  away  into  the  night ;  while  we,  under 
escort  of  the  cowmen,  rode  on  to  Obispo,  where 
at  the  entrance  of  the  village  the  ragamuffin 
crew  turned  and  left  us. 

We  had  hardly  had  time  to  dismount  when 
the  padre's  door  flew  open  and  out  came  the 
padre  himself.  At  sight  of  the  old  man's  kindly 
face  the  atmosphere  seemed  to  clear  ;  there  came 
over  us  again  the  old  unreasoning  feeling  that 
in  spite  of  appearances  things  were  somehow 
going  to  be  all  right  yet. 

"All  safe  and  sound,  boys?"  cried  our  old 
friend,  as  he  came  trotting  down  his  garden 
path  with  hands  stretched  out  to  welcome  us. 

"  All  safe  and  sound,  sir,  thank  you,"  we  both 
replied. 

"And  the  saddle-bags?" 

"  Lost,  sir.  Mr.  Latimer  got  them  away  from 
us  about  an  hour  ago  and  has  gone  off  south- 
ward with  them." 


3o6         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

"  Good  ! "  exclaimed  the  padre,  much  to  our 
astonishment ;  for  to  us  it  seemed  that  the 
proper  word  was  "  bad." 

''  Come  in,"  he  continued.  '*  Come  in.  Jose, 
call  Gonsalvo  to  take  the  horses  and  come  in 
too.     Now,  then,  come  along  at  once." 

While  we  sat  waiting  for  the  supper  of  which 
we  stood  so  much  in  need,  we  related  to  the 
padre  all  the  details  of  our  late  adventure. 
The  old  gentleman  sat  listening,  with  a  queer 
expression  on  his  face,  nodding  his  head  and 
sometimes  saying,  "  Ha,  ha,"  and  sometimes, 
"  Yes,  yes,"  until  we  had  finished,  when  he  re- 
marked : 

"  So  Mr.  Latimer  has  got  clear  away  with  the 
saddle-bags,  has  he  ?  And  doubtless  it  appears 
to  you  that  Bertrand  White's  treasure  has  gone 
for  good." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Stock.  "  It  does  look  so 
to  us." 

The  padre  laughed  quietly.  "  And  Mr. 
Latimer  recommends  me  to  employ  sharper 
tools  next  time,  does  he?  "  he  asked.  "  I  think, 
do  you  know, — I  rather  think — that  our  clever 
friend  has  been  a  little  too  self-confident ;  that 
he  will  yet  find  the  tools  to  have  been  quite 


The  Padre's  Little  Trap  307 

sharp  enough  for  him  to  cut  his  fingers  on. 
Would  it  surprise  you,"  he  went  on,  "  if  I  told 
you  that  things  have  happened  just  about  as  I 
expected  they  would?  And,  moreover,  that 
Bertrand  White's  treasure  is  in  no  danger  from 
Mr.  Latimer?     I  see  it  would." 

There  was  plainly  no  need  for  a  reply.  Our 
blank  faces  were  assurance  enough. 

''  Well,  well,"  he  continued,  "  it  is  not  fair  to 
keep  you  in  suspense  any  longer,  so  I  will  tell 
you.  Do  you  remember,  Jamie,  the  morning 
after  you  brought  the  quicksilver  from  the 
castle,  remarking  that  I  did  not  seem  to  have 
slept  well?  You  were  quite  right:  I  had  not 
slept  at  all ;  I  had  spent  what  was  left  of  the 
night  in  arranging  my  little  trap  for  Mr. 
Latimer.     Can't  you  guess  what  it  was  ?  " 

We  shook  our  heads,  for  even  yet  we  had  no 
inkling  of  the  truth. 

"  And  you,  Stock,"  he  went  on,  "do  you  re- 
member making  the  remark  that  the  quick- 
silver-jars were  '  plum  full '  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  remember." 

"  It  was  that  remark  which  gave  me  my  idea. 
I  knew  that  if  the  jars  were  full  they  must  weigh 
about  the  same  as  the  jars  of  gold,  which  were 


308  Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

only  two-thirds  full ;  so,  while  you  slept  that 
night,  I  took  the  jars  of  gold  out  of  the  saddle- 
bags and  in  their  place  sewed  in  the  jars  of 
quicksilver.  The  jars  of  gold  are  standing 
there  " — pointing  with  his  finger — "  under  that 
mat  by  the  fireplace  ;  the  jars  of  quicksilver 
are  now  on  their  way  southward — to  Old 
Mexico,  I  expect — with  Mr.  Latimer." 

When  at  last  we  understood  the  padre's 
simple  and  beautiful  plan,  we  both — Stock  in 
particular— went  off  into  such  ecstasies  of 
laughter  and  applause,  that  the  wrinkled  old 
cook  came  running  in  from  the  kitchen  to  see 
what  was  the  matter.  This  calmed  us  down  a 
little,  and  though  every  now  and  then  we  would 
burst  forth  afresh  at  the  thought  of  Mr.  Latimer 
hurrying  away  with  his  comparatively  worthless 
prize,  we  were  able  to  continue  our  conversation 
with  some  degree  of  decorum. 

"So,  that,  sir,"  said  Stock,  ''was  why  you 
were  so  confident  that  the  gold  would  be  safe 
from  Mr.  Latimer." 

"  Exactly,"  replied  the  padre. 

"  And  that  was  why  we  ourselves  were  kept 
in  the  dark — so  that  nothing  in  our  actions 
might  arouse  his  suspicions." 


The  Padre's  Little  Trap  309 

"  Exactly  again.  And  very  well  it  succeeded. 
If  anything  would  make  his  assurance  doubly 
sure  that  the  gold  was  in  those  saddle-bags,  your 
last  attempt  to  steal  back  the  '  treasure '  would 
do  it." 

"  That  is  true,"  Stock  assented.  ''  My  !  But 
I  should  like  to  be  on  hand  when  he  digs  the 
clay  out  of  the  mouths  of  the  jars  and  finds  there 
is  nothing  but  quicksilver  underneath  !  " 

"  Poor  fellow ! "  said  the  charitable  old 
padre.  "  It  will  be  a  dreadful  disappoint- 
ment." 

Being  ourselves,  I  confess,  incapable  of  wish- 
ing that  Mr.  Latimer  might  be  anything  but 
disappointed,  we  held  our  peace  ;  and  the  supper 
luckily  coming  in  at  that  moment,  our  thoughts 
were  diverted  into  another  channel. 

"  I  wish,"  said  our  host,  presently,  "  that  you 
might  stay  with  me  a  day  or  two  to  rest,  but  I 
fear  it  would  not  do.  It  will  be  well  if  you  start 
again  to-night.  I  do  not  anticipate  any  further 
trouble,  but  it  is  as  well  to  be  cautious." 

To  this  we  agreed,  and  accordingly,  after  tak- 
ing a  reluctant  and  affectionate  leave  of  our  old 
friend,  with  repeated  promises  to  come  back 
some  day — a  promise  which  we  have  faithfully 


3IO         Dale  and  Fraser,  Sheepmen 

kept  once  every  year  since — we  set  out  for  the 
last  time  from  the  little  village  of  Obispo. 

There  is  no  need  to  go  into  the  details  of  our 
journey  ;  it  is  enough  to  say  that  we  met  with 
no  interference  on  the  way,  and  that  late  on  the 
evening  of  the  fourth  day  Stock  hoisted  our 
precious  burden  from  the  back  of  the  little  burro 
and  carried  it  into  the  sitting-room  at  the  ranch. 

My  father,  with  our  ready  consent,  took 
charge  of  the  business  of  disposing  of  the  gold, 
and  one  day,  about  three  weeks  later,  he  drove 
home  from  town  with  the  gratifying  intelligence 
that  the  sum  of  nearly  forty-four  thousand  dol- 
lars had  been  deposited  to  the  credit  of  "  Aunt 
Catherine." 

Stock's  delight  at  the  outcome  of  the  whole 
affair  was  without  bounds ;  nor  was  it  dimin- 
ished when  Miss  Seabright  wrote,  insisting  that 
he  and  I  ought  to  have  some  share  in  the  money. 
This  we  both  absolutel}''  declined.  For  my  part, 
it  went  against  the  grain  to  accept  payment 
under  the  circumstances  ;  while,  as  for  Stock,  as 
he  wrote  back,  the  pleasure  it  gave  him  to  have 
been  able  to  make  a  return  of  some  sort  for  the 
kindness  he  had  received  at  her  hands  was  com- 
pensation enough,  and  more  too. 


The   Padre's  Little  Trap  3  1 1 

As  Miss  Seabright  did  not  insist  farther,  we 
supposed  that  the  matter  was  settled ;  but  in 
this  we  were  mistaken — she  was  only  biding  her 
time. 

Stock's  twenty-first  birthday  came  a  little 
more  than  three  years  later,  and  mine  ten  days 
after  his,  the  joint  event  being  celebrated  by  a 
grand  dinner  at  the  ranch.  It  was  after  dinner, 
while  we  were  still  sitting  over  the  coffee,  that 
my  father,  producing  a  document  from  his 
pocket,  said  : 

"  Boys,  here  is  a  birthday  present  for  you  from 
Miss  Catherine  and  myself.  Miss  Catherine 
furnished  half  the  money,  leaving  it  to  me  to 
buy  the  place ;  a  commission  I  was  very  pleased 
to  undertake.  I  now  make  it  over  to  you. 
This  is  the  deed." 

The  place  in  question  was  the  Swift  Creek 
ranch,  a  beautiful  tract  of  land  lying  immedi- 
ately west  of  the  home  place.  The  ranch,  to- 
gether with  three  thousand  head  of  sheep,  was 
made  over  to  Stock  and  me,  jointly. 

"You  will  have  to  accept  it.  Stock,"  said  my 
mother.  "  Miss  Catherine  has  written  to  me,  ask- 
ing me  to  see  that  you  do.  You  must  remember 
that  you  have  done  her  a  great  service,  and  you 


312  Dale  and   Fraser,   Sheepmen 

must  not  deprive  her  of  the  pleasure  of  making 
you  some  return.     You  will  have  to  accept." 

As  my  father  was  of  the  same  opinion,  Stock 
did  accept ;  and  thus  it  was  that  the  firm  of 
Dale  and  Fraser,  sheepmen,  came  into  existence. 

We  have  run  the  place  now  for  some  years, 
and  by  hard  work,  close  watchfulness  and  strict 
economy  we  have  done  very  well.  Moreover, 
my  father,  deciding  that  he  had  been  in  the 
business  long  enough,  last  year  turned  over  to 
us  the  management  of  his  place,  to  be  worked  on 
shares ;  so  now  we  run  the  two  places  as  one. 

We  have  of  our  own  and  of  my  father's  nearly 
twenty  thousand  sheep,  with  room  for  as  many 
more,  requiring  a  good  many  Mexican  herders 
to  look  after  them ;  so  many,  in  fact,  that  we 
employ  an  overseer  to  look  after  the  herders. 
He  is  a  brisk  little  man,  faithful,  careful  and 
competent,  and  is  held  in  profound  respect  by 
his  compatriots,  among  whom  he  is  known  as 
Senor  Don  Jose  Maria  Sandoval.  With  Stock 
and  me,  however,  he  still  goes  by  the  familiar, 
time-honored  title  of  "  Hidalgo." 

THE    END 


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A  STORY  OF  THE  MERCHANT  MARINE.    352  pp. 

This  book  has  all  of  the  interest  of  "Oliver 
Optic's"  books,  ^\^th  none  of  their  improbabiUties. 

The  Volumes  are  Fully  Illustrated.     Price,  $1.50  each. 
(The  set  in  a  box,  $6.00) 

W.  A.  WILDE  COMPANY 

Boston  and  Chicago 


Famous  Historical   Sea  Stories 

By  JAMES  OTIS 

This  collection  of  sea  stories  has  been  read  by  thousands  of  boys  and 
girls.  They  are  full  of  action,  and  the  historical  facts  on  which  the  experi- 
ences are  based  are  reliable  and  important  as  being  true  pictures  of  the 
times.     Every  young  reader  will  find  great  interest  and  profit  in  them. 

WITH  PERRY  ON  LAKE  ERIE 

A  tale  of  1812.  307  pp. 
The  famous  battle  of  Lake  Erie  is  one  of  the  most  thrilling  inci- 
dents in  our  early  history,  and  meant  much  in  the  development  of 
our  country.  This  story  covers  this  period  —  the  incidents  leading 
up  to  it,  and  many  of  the  details  of  the  battle  itself.  It  is  a  happy 
union  of  facts  and  fiction. 

WITH  PICEBLE  AT  TRIPOLI 

A  story  of "  Old  Ironsides"  and  the  Tripolitan  war.    349  pp. 
The  mere  mention  of  "Old  Ironsides"  gives  a  thrill  of  interest, 
and  both  young  and  old  will  enjoy  the  story  of  this  famous  frigate's 
part  in  the  war  against  Tripoli. 

WITH  POR.TER.  IN  THE  ESSEX 

A  story  of  Porter's  famous  cruise  in  Southern  waters  during 
the  war  of  1 812.  344  pages. 
In  comparison  with  the  famous  voyage  of  the  U.  S.  Battleship 
"  Oregon  "  around  Cape  Horn,  this  story  of  Admiral  Porter  and  his 
"  Essex  "  in  1812,  is  most  interesting.  It  shows  the  many  hardships 
and  privations  which  were  endured  during  the  earlier  period  as  well 
as  the  important  part  played  by  the  "  Essex  "  in  the  struggle  for 
supremacy  of  the  sea. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ENTERPRISE 

Being  the  story   of  the   struggle  and  defeat  of  the  French 

privateering  expeditions  against  the  United  States  in  1799. 

359  pp. 

The  attacks  made  by  French  privateers  on  our  merchant  marine 

resulted  in  the  fitting  out  of  American  privateers,  and  it  is  on  board 

one  of  these  vessels  that  the  scenes  of  this  story  are  laid.     It  is  just 

the  book  that  the  average  boy  will  thoroughly  enjoy. 

WITH  RODGERS  ON  THE  "PRESIDENT" 

The  story  of  the  cruise  wherein  the  flagship   fired  the   first 
hostile  shot  in  the  war  with  Great  Britain  for  the  rights   of 
American  seamen.    348  pp. 
Throughout  this  story  one  can  easily  imagine  what    life    on    a 
United  States  frigate  was  at  that  time ;  the  dangers  attending  it,  and 
the  spirit  which  manifested  itself  when  patriotism  was  needed. 
EACH  VOLUME  FULLY  ILLUSTRATED.    Price,  $1.50. 


W.  A.  WILDE  COMPANY 

Boston  and  Chicago 


Fighting   Under 

the  Southern   Cross. 

A  Story  of  the  Chile-Peruvian  War. 

BY 

CLAUDE  H.    WETMORE. 

335  pages.  Illustrated.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 


CONTAINING  PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY 
AND  MAP  OF  CALLAO  BAY 


This  is  one  of  the  best  stories  for  boys  that  has  been  issued,  and 
with  great  pleasure  we  heartily  recommend  it. — Observer. 

This  story  is  full  of  thrilling  interest  and  dramatic  power.  The 
many  picturesque  descriptions  give  a  real  portrayal  of  the  country 
and  its  people.— ^(7oi;  News. 

This  volume  is  so  real  that  one  imagines  he  is  in  the  centre  of 
action.  This  doubtless  is  due  to  the  author's  thorough  acquaintance 
with  the  customs  and  conditions  of  these  countries.— 5/.  Louis  Star. 

Just  now  when  there  are  so  many  reminders  of  the  differences 
existing  between  the  South  American  States,  and  while  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Pan-American  Congress  in  Mexico  is  being  so  strongly 
felt,  this  book  is  very  timely.  It  is  a  very  vivid  picture  of  the  war 
between  Chile  and  Peru  in  1879,  and  a  portrayal  of  the  customs  and 
manners  of  these  states  that  is  extremely  interesting,  and  that  throws 
much  light  on  present  problems.— C5r/rf;aw  Endeavor  World. 

The  bitter  war  of  conquest  waged  by  Chile  against  Peru  has  never 
been  given  any  popular  presentation  until  now.  The  author  is  a 
traveler  who  has  covered  all  of  South  America  and  was  a  resident  of 
Peru  when  the  war  broke  out.  His  picture  of  that  period  is  absorb- 
ingly interesting,  and  the  promised  sequel  of  this  volume  will  be 
awaited  with  great  eagerness. —  The  Interior. 

W.  A.  WILDE  COMPANY,  Boston  and  Chicago. 


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